


Violet Potter and the Wizarding World

by LemonTears



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Fantasy, Gryffindor!Harry, Harry Potter Has a Twin, Her name is Violet, Hufflepuff!Neville, Magic, Multi, Necromancy, Original Character(s), Ravenclaw!Hermione, Self-Insert, Slow Burn, Slytherin!Violet, The beginning is the same but the plot will change, eventual Draco/oc, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2019-11-01 21:35:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17875283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonTears/pseuds/LemonTears
Summary: My name is Violet Potter. My life as a witch started with confusion and awe, followed by terror, and didn’t get any better from there.This is the death defying, life inspiring and sometimes vomit inducing story that my twin brother Harry and I shared as we fell down the black hole of witches, wizards, dark powers, prophecies and psychotic murderers.{Eventual OCxDraco}{Loosely follows canon, but new plot to come}





	1. Book One: Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello to all the souls who decide to read this. I have recently been re-reading the Harry Potter series, and like others I have wanted to see Harry with a twin, so I thought why not make my own story. I know this has been done before, but I want to write my own version. It will start Canon, but will definitely take a very different turn. 
> 
> Yes this will be OCxDraco, eventually from what I've planned, but things could change as I keep writing. This will be a slow burn romance though, I'm not here to write two people who have very opposite personalities just falling for each other in the blink of an eye.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you all enjoy Violet Potter, and this story, because I have a lot of fun writing it!

****

Book one: Prologue

It was a beautiful day, nearing the end of November. The Britain air was crisp and snowfall made Godrich’s hollow look serene and almost angelic, despite the stark stone buildings and gnarled, bare trees. It was in the front garden of one such house that Lily Potter stood, waiting excitedly for her husbands return.

Lily Potter was not one to wait around for her husband of course, she was not that kind of woman. She was strong, independent and certainly not a “house-wife” sort. But today of all days, was just so special that she couldn’t help but wade through the snow in anticipation for her husbands arrival. 

She had quite tremendous news of course.

James, unsuspecting of such news though, was quite confused to find his wife outside waiting for him. He had been off meeting with his friends, who would be coming along for dinner that night as they usually did. Sirius and Remus couldn’t cook for their lives, and without Lily, they may have starved by now.

“Lily?” James asked as he walked up to his wife. “What are you doing out here? It’s freezing.”

“Oh, I haven’t been out long,” She assured, though her bright pink nose and frozen fingers were not testament to that. “James, I just had the best news and I couldn’t wait for you to come home?”

“News? Great news?” James asked, his stomach becoming a flutter with possibility. “Could it be that Voldemort has finally been finished?”

Lily shook her head, and though she would normally feel quite grim about the fact that the terrible wizard was still on his reign of terror, she was too happy to mind at the moment. “Better!”

“Better than that?” James chuckled humorously, but then blinked. “What could be better than that?”

“This!” Lily squeaked quite happily and pulled out what looked like a white stick with some kind of blue cap. There was a little panel on the side of it that showed a pink plus sign. James looked at it, trying to figure out a) what it was, b) why it was so exciting to his wife and c) really, what was it?

He took it in his hands and turned it over a few times. “What is it?” Lily just laughed at him and James sighed. “You know I’m no good at muggle artifacts Lil.”

Lily rubbed her frozen hands together and grinned, her freckled cheeks looked absolutely rosy. “Well you see, muggle women use this stick. They pee on it and-“

“Oh!?” James exclaimed, letting go of the stick to let it drop to the snow, but Lily was fast and grabbed it before it could fall. “Why in the world would you give this to me!?”

“Would you listen!” Lily laughed and shoved his arm playfully. “We pee on the stick and it tells us the most magical news. It shows us whether or not we are pregnant!”

James felt his heart skip a beat. “Oh!?” He repeated, flabbergasted. “A-And...?”

Lily raised it up so the man could see it. “You see that plus sign?”

“Yes...”

“That means I’m pregnant! We’re pregnant! We’re going to have a baby!”

James took a moment to process that information. “We’re... You and me?” Lily nodded. James continued sputtering, “Having... a... We’re having a baby?” Lily nodded again, as if she was a bobble head. James sucked in a breath. He couldn’t believe it.

“We’re having a baby!” He yelled, this time far more excited. He dashed forward and scooped up the woman he loved within his arms and spun her around. Lily laughed excitedly, happy tears coming to her eyes.

“We are, we really are!”

“Give me this!” James said and snatched the pregnancy test from the woman’s hand, no longer caring about the small fact that she had peed on the stick. It was all right here; he was going to have a child. A baby. He was going to be a father and Lily and him would be parents.

Lily seemed pleased by his reaction, and she couldn’t keep her excitement inside her body anymore. She let out a happy shriek and tackled her husband to the ground, landing safely, albeit coldly, in a pile of snow. The two giggled together like school children. 

Later that evening, when the two had gone inside and gotten warm by the fire together, talking about their future, the front door opened and in came none other than Remus and Sirius, looking rather frosty. They looked over at the couple cuddling by the flames and smiled.

“Well looky looky who’s getting all warm and cozy.” Sirius snickered. “Lily and James, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-“

Lily snickered as James sat up and threw his drying mitten at the man. “Shut it you,” James laughed, “Not even your incessant badgering can annoy me today.”

“What has you so charmed this evening?” Remus asked as he came closer to the heat of the house.

James jumped up from the couch and produced a small white stick with a blue cap on it from his pocket. He held it like a precious treasure. “This?”

“You’re excited because of... a pen?” Sirius asked, looking at the muggle artifact in confusion.

“Are you dumb?” James laughed haughtily. Lily rolled her eyes and stood up, coming to his side, as if the man hadn’t known what it was only a few hours ago.

“You see, Lily peed on that-“

“Ugh!” Sirius groaned in disgust and threw it back at James.

“-And it told her that she’s pregnant! We’re having a child!”

“You two? A child!?” Sirius gasped, a large grin spreading to his face. “Congratulations!” He opened his arms wide and gave Lily a hug before pulling his friend into a brotherly embrace.

“That’s amazing.” Remus grinned, also going in for his round of hugs. 

Lily smiled. “I found out today. But wait, where is Peter?”

Sirius sighed, “He said he couldn’t come today. He’s been quite busy these days it seems.”

“Ah, well we will have to tell him the fantastic news another day.” James smiled and rest his hand on Lily’s stomach.

“Well!” Sirius exclaimed, “Have you thought of names!?”

“Sirius, they only just found out.” Remus snorted.

“Well, actually...” Lily giggled.

“We’ve been talking about this for a while and we decided Harry for a boy.” James grinned dreamily. It follows the Potter tradition.

“And Violet if it’s a girl.” Lily smiled and rest her hand overtop her husbands on her stomach. “Most the women in the Evan’s family were named after flowers... And Violets are beautiful.”

“Well, lets hope if the child is a girl she’ll take after her mother, because a female James-“ Sirius chuckled to himself until he was smacked in the stomach by James.

The four laughed the night away, quite excited by big news. Little did they know that a few months later they would find out that they would be needing both names.

Harry and Violet Potter.

Twins. Both with black hair, both with their mothers forest green eyes, both looking chubby, happy, perfect. Violet had come first, crying so loudly, they were certain that the whole world was being announced of her arrival. Behind her eyes was an intelligence, tremendous curiosity and beautiful happiness. Second came Harry, much quieter than his sister before him. His green eyes were peaceful, calm and just as beautifully happy.

The twins took to each other, loving one another and hated being separated. They loved their family and were both loved by Remus, Sirius and especially Lily and James.

Who would have known one short year with their extraordinary children was all Lily and James would have before meeting their untimely demise. 

What a hauntingly spectacular last year that had been.


	2. Book One: Chapter One

**Book One - Chapter One: Violet Potter and the very bad beginning.**

Most children the age of 10 wake up from their sleep each morning to their mothers soft cooing, or coddling. They would go downstairs to a good breakfast of bacon and eggs, some toast, or at least sugary cereal that would sufficiently rot their teeth. Their fathers would be reading the newspaper and cheerfully comment on the weather and call their kid “champ” or “sport” or “little prince or princess”. Their mother would serve the food and laugh and talk and all would be bright. They would love spending time with their child that they brought into the world and wouldn’t at all be bothered by their presence. That’s how mornings with the family should be for most children.

Unfortunately for me and my twin brother, we were not most children

“Up! Now! Get up!” Came the incessant shrieking that was the usual morning call for us. 

For my twin and I, there was no soft morning cuddles or hugs or pancakes and sickly sweet syrup, no no, what we were faced with was a shrieking, skulking dragon lady. But maybe even dragon was too kind for her. At least dragons were interesting.

“We better get up.” Harry, my twin brother, younger by ten minutes might I add, groaned from beside me as he woke up. No one would be able to sleep with such yelling. 

“And if I don’t want to?” I sighed from beside him, squished against the cool wall.

“You know that’s not an option.”

Ever since our parents passed away ten years ago, my brother and I were sent to live with our Aunt Petunia, her husband Vernon, and their child, Dudley. “Oh you are so fortunate,” some would say, “that your sweet aunt and uncle took you in rather than having you sent off to some orphanage!”

Besides telling two orphan children they were rather “fortunate” that their parents had died and they wound up there, they were wrong about one other thing. Harry and I would have been much happier at an orphanage. 

“Up!” Aunt Petunia shrieked again.

I rolled over as best I could and shoved my face in my brothers back. “Don’t make me go out there. I hate them.”

“I do too, but at least they take care of us... kinda.” Harry sighed. I looked up at him as I cleared the sleep from my eyes. Harry and I looked a lot alike, then again, what could we expect? We were twins. We had the same pale skin, the same knobby knees and small skinny body type. We had the same black hair, though mine was long and wavy and fell down to my hips, parting in the middle of my forehead. His was short, cut across his forehead with bangs, and stuck up every which way. Luckily I had a softer jaw line then him, fuller lips and a smattering of brown freckles across my cheeks and nose so we weren’t completely unidentifiable besides the hair. Oddly enough though, we both shared the same scar; a small lightning bolt shaped cut in our foreheads. His lay on the right side, and mine on the left, almost as if the scar from his forehead carried onto mine in a perfect match. We had always wondered where they came from, but Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon hated questions more than anything.

“Are you up yet!?” The woman continued to squawk.

“Nearly!” Harry called.

“Well hurry it up then, the bacon will burn!”

Harry was always the voice of reason. Out of the two of us, he was the calm one and I was the troublesome one. Harry always minded his words, tried to be the best he could, within reason, for our awful aunt and uncle. He took so much hatred from them and tried to wear it out. That didn’t mean he was spineless of course, there was times when he lost his temper, and he could be just as trouble seeking as the next, but his threshold of handling such situations were better than me. I, on the other hand, could often be seen getting in trouble. Specifically by Aunt Petunia.  Since I was a girl, she believed that I should act just like a lady, but that was a load of bull toad. I was hot headed, loved to play in the mud and rough house with Harry. The only slightly feminine thing I did was read, and that wasn’t even very feminine! One time, Aunt Petunia had tried to send me to some etiquette class where all the little girls raised their pinkies as they sipped tea. I showed up in my ratty overalls and braided hair and needless to say I was kicked out the very first day. 

If it weren’t for the fact that I loved Harry so much, I would have snuck away years ago. Maybe as soon as I was able to talk and walk.

“Where are the...” Harry mumbled, trying to look around the small space we called a bedroom, which just so happened to be the closet underneath the stairs. 

“Glasses?” I asked and slowly sat up, careful not to smack my head against one of the stairs like I had done so many times before. “Here.” I passed over the wire frame glasses we both shared. It was apparent early on that we both had poor sight, and when Uncle Vernon came home with one pair of glasses, we were both quite confused. “Why waste perfectly good money on two pairs of glasses when you can just share?”

Out of the two of us, I believed Harry deserved the glasses more, so I often told him I was fine without them, but only needed them for reading. So the glasses were his during the day, but mine during the night. It wasn’t ideal, but it had worked for the past years. I would take having blurry vision for my whole life if it meant Harry could see.

I reached over him to grab my overalls, my usual attire. Whatever shirt I had slept in with my overalls slapped on top was often what adorned my small body. I rolled around in the tiny bed we had to share under the stairs, trying to pull them on. When I had finished fussing and Harry too had gotten dressed in his oversized hand-me-downs, he grabbed the brush and began to comb through my hair as he always did, braiding them into two neat cords down my back. I was no good at things like that, so I was glad Harry had figured out how.

Fully dressed and ready for the day, despite my desire to just stay in bed and read all day, the two of us crawled out from the cupboard under the stairs and stretched. Ten year old children shouldn’t be cracking the way we did.

Aunt Petunia spotted us from the kitchen and waved us forward with her bony skeleton claw that had perfectly manicured French tip nails. 

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were insufferable. If there was a prize for the most dreadfully, awfully, terribly boring people in the whole world, these two would win it. What made it worse was the fact that they would be happy to win it too! 

Aunt Petunia was a tall, skinny, severe looking lady who had far too much neck, scaly looking saggy skin and reminded me of some kind of Giraffe, lizard hybrid. She spent her time being a “wonderful” stay at home mother to her child, an “extraordinary” wife to her husband, and all around “good” neighbour. If being a good neighbour meant sneakily thieving the coupon pages from next door and craning her long neck over the hedges to spy on those living close by, then sure, she was the best there was.

“Violet watch the bacon. Harry, set the table. I need everything perfect for ickle Duddykins birthday.” She demanded

Harry and I looked at each other and both internally groaned. How could we have forgotten? It was Dudley’s birthday. 

Dudley was our cousin, the monstrous devil spawn of Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. He had grown up with a gold spoon in his mouth, absolutely spoiled rotten by his parents. And as such, he was the biggest, most annoying pig on the planet. His hobbies included picking on Harry, picking on me, picking his nose, and then picking on Harry and me some more.

“Mummy! I don’t want Violet to touch my bacon! She’ll give it all her girl cooties!” Dudley cried to his mother when he entered the kitchen and saw me standing at the stove, giving me a nasty smirk when she wasn’t looking. 

“Oh of course my baby Duddy-dumpling!” She turned and glared at me. “Violet set the table. Harry do the bacon and don’t let it burn.”

I frowned. Dudley knew I hated to set the table because it meant I had to do dishes after breakfast. And dishes were so dreadful. I felt like sobbing every time I touched a soggy bit of food.  

Once his attention wasn’t set on terrorizing both Harry and I, he was quickly caught up by the sight of all his presents. “Thirty five... thirty six... thirty six!?” He exclaimed, “That's two less than last year."

Seeing as her son was about to go into full meltdown mode, she came forward and pat his head. "Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mommy and Daddy."

"All right, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going red in the face.

"And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin? Two more presents. Is that all right?” Petunia urged quickly, looking to her husband who was quite unaware of the meltdown and was glued to the newspaper. “Right honey?” 

Vernon looked up. He reminded me of a giant red tomato. He was round with multiple chins, was rather pink in the face and had an awful caterpillar like moustache on-top of his lip. “Huh? Ah yes. More presents for the young tyke!” He said. 

“So I'll have thirty ... thirty..." Dudley muttered, trying to do the math in that thick skull of his. 

"Thirty-nine, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia.

“Oh. Alright.” This seemed satisfactory for Dudley because he didn’t go nuclear tantrum mode. 

Uncle Vernon chuckled. "Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair.

Just then, the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia whisked off to grab it. Meanwhile, Dudley set to work at opening his presents; a new bike, a new tv, a vcr player, many vcr tapes, a new computer with new computer games. By the time Aunt Petunia got back, he had tore through half of his birthday presents. 

“Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take them." She jerked her head in Harry and my direction.

Harry looked at me, I looked back, and we shared a secret, excited smile. Every year on Dudley's birthday, his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to theme parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies. Every year, Harry and I were left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. The whole house reeked of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made us look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned.

"Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at us as though we’d somehow planned this. 

I prayed that she just let us stay home. We were rarely ever left alone in the house. If we were, we would have the chance to play outside, or watch the TV or read any book we wanted. 

"We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested. "Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the lot of them." Aunt Petunia shook her head. 

“What about what's-her-name, your friend -- Yvonne?"

“On vacation in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia.

"You could just leave us here," Harry suggested hopefully. 

Aunt Petunia looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon.

"And come back and find the house in ruins?" she snarled.

"I won't blow up the house," said Harry, but they weren't listening.

“I might.” I mumbled. 

"I suppose we could take them to the zoo," said Aunt Petunia slowly, "... and leave them in the car...."

"That car's new, they’re not sitting in it alone...."

This was when Volcano Dudley decided to erupt. He let out a ear numbing wail that would make dogs cry. He flailed his thick arms and legs. Of course, he wasn’t actually crying, but he knew if he acted as if the world was ending, his mother and father would give him anything. 

“Dinky Duddydums, don't cry, Mummy won't let them spoil your special day!" Aunt Petunia cried, flinging her arms around him.

"I... don't... want... them... t-t-to come!" Dudley yelled between huge, pretend sobs. "They always sp-spoil everything!"

The doorbell chimes and Aunt Petunia let out a sigh of relief as she skittered off to the front door while saying, “oh goodness they’re finally here.”

She opened the door, and none other than my worst nightmare walked through. Piers Polkis. He was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. 

Dudley liked to focus the brute force of his bullying on Harry, maybe because I was less interesting than Harry, or maybe because I fought back more when Dudley attacked me, even more likely because I was a girl.  Which was completely unfair, because I could totally kick his butt. But no, I got stuck with Piers. He was my personal assailant. 

Whenever he saw me, he would take to pulling my braids, calling me names like “wussy girl” or “stupid idiot girl” which I thought were the least creative names one could imagine. He liked to tell me I had cooties, and not only that I was an orphan, I was also diseased with being a girl. According to him and Dudley, girls were far inferior beings. I felt sorry for whichever poor sods ended up with these brick heads. 

Half an hour later, Dudley, Piers, Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon and Harry and I  were standing outside the house on 4 Privet Drive, all staring at the car.

“Well we haven’t enough room.” Aunt Petunia huffed. 

“What are you talking about? Three can sit in the back and one will go in the boot of the car.” Uncle Vernon said indignantly, as if that wasn’t a terrible idea. It was obvious the only one going in the trunk wouldn’t be Dudley or Piers. 

“You can’t be serious! That’s dangerous!” Harry said in disbelief. 

Uncle Vernon turned those dark eyes on Harry. If there was one thing he hated, it was us questioning him, talking back or talking in general. Before he could subject Harry to a good screaming, I stepped in front of him. 

“I’ll do it!” I volunteered. “I’ll go in the trunk.”

“What!?” Harry gasped and looked at me like I was crazy. “You could get hurt!”

“I have tough skin.” I assured him and gave him the best smile I could. 

Uncle Vernon snorted. “There, you see, at least one of you little retches has some sense!”

Piers and Dudley got a kick out of this, chuckling happily as they slid into the back seat of Uncle Vernon’s car. Uncle Vernon popped the boot of the car opened and looked at me. “C’mon then.”

I turned to Harry’s worried face and gave him my best smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. It’s only a short ride anyways!”

“What if you’re hurt?” He asked and I smiled. Harry was always so kind to me. 

I snorted and waved him off, “What? I’m your tough older sister. Do you not believe in me?”

“You’re only ten minutes older.” Harry sighed, but didn’t say more because Uncle Vernon was getting impatient, so  I gave Harry a quick hug in case it was, by chance, the last time I would see him and I would end up dying in the boot of the car. 

I made sure Harry was in the back before I climbed into the trunk. There was various objects in the back, old smelly golf clothes, some mulch for the garden, but nothing that could seriously injure me. 

“Listen you,” Uncle Vernon growled at me. He hated me the most out of Harry and I, for I wasn’t afraid of giving him some lip. “No funny business back here. Be quiet. And don’t throw up in my car!”

“No promises!” I barked back. 

He looked absolutely furious at my attitude. He growled, his big cheeks turning red, (well, more red) and he slammed the trunk down, engulfing me in darkness. Well this would be fun. 

The ride there was no more brutal than being tossed around by Dudley and Piers. Each bump though, sent my small body skyrocketing around. I found out quickly that I would jumble around a lot less if I clung to the heavy bag of mulch. 

I was sure Harry wasn’t having a very fun time sitting with Dudley and Piers, but at least he wasn’t in as much physical danger. Some people may find it odd and weird, but to me, I was Harry’s older sister. I would do anything to protect him. Sure I was only ten minutes older, but in my eyes, Harry was my precious younger sibling. He was all I had in this world and was one of the only things that filled me with joy. I would do anything for him, including laying my life down for him. 

An indefinite amount of time later, the car lurched to a stop and I felt the car shift as the people got out. I heard Harry’s muffled voice urging Uncle Vernon to hurry up and let me out, and Uncle Vernon hissing back at Harry to “quiet up, I don’t want anyone to notice we had a brat in our trunk!”

The boot of the car popped open, and the bright light assaulted my eyes. Harry was there next to Uncle Vernon, offering me his hands to help pull me out. Uncle Vernon didn’t seem like he cared all too much. “Hurry up now, before someone sees!” He growled. 

Harry assisted me out so I wouldn’t tumble onto the pavement, and held onto my hand tightly as we followed the others. We often got made fun of, but Harry and I took comfort in holding hands as we walked around. Maybe it was a twin thing, but we agreed that we felt much more whole when we were together. 

They had brought us to the zoo for Dudley’s big birthday excursion, and we couldn’t have been more pleased. We both loved animals. 

Uncle Vernon stopped us before we could head through the ticket booth though. "I'm warning you," he said, putting his large, red, veiny face right up close to our faces. “I'm warning you now, any funny business, anything at all, and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas.”

"We’re not going to do anything," said Harry, "honestly..”

But it wouldnt matter what we said, because the truth was, weird things happened around me and Harry all the time. 

One time, Uncle Vernon had spotted Harry’s hair from overtop of his newspaper and exclaimed that Harry needed a “bloody haircut to stop it from going every which way”. It’s not like Harry could help it, it just grew that way. But Uncle Vernon wouldn’t have that. He had Aunt Petunia shave his hair, leaving only his bangs to cover the scar on his forehead. It was bad enough mine was visible. That night, I had to hold Harry as he cried and worried about what the kids at school would say the next day. But wouldn’t you know it, the day after, Harry’s hair had all grown back. 

Another time, I had been sneaking around outside the cupboard at night, trying to steal some treats for Harry and I, and I couldn’t quite see. “It’s so bloody dark in here.” I had muttered, but suddenly, the room had been flooded in warm light. All of the candles in the kitchen and living room had suddenly flicked on. I had been so shocked I didn’t know what to do. 

And of course there was other times that I hadn’t even told Harry about because I was so surprised. Like the one time I was forced to help Aunt Petunia shear her dead roses from the garden, but I swore they came back to life with just my touch. Or the time I picked up a baby bird at school that had fallen from a tree and broken a wing, only for it to suddenly get better only seconds after I took it. How was I supposed to explain that to Harry!? Maybe I was possessed by a demon or had some magical powers!? But that couldn’t be real. 

But not today. We wouldn’t do anything today. We just couldn’t. It was one of the first times we were allowed outside of the house without the reason being school, chores or going to Mrs. Figg’s crazy cat house. 

Harry and I had a wonderful morning; one of the best ones we had had in a long time. We got to see all kinds of animals like colourful birds, shiny insects, a cheeta and even a hippo (that may have thought Uncle Vernon was its brother). The two of us walked a little ways back from the others so that we might steer clear of Piers and Dudley’s torturing if they got bored. We even were allowed to order off the kids menu at the restaurant and both got oily, salty chicken fingers and fries which to two kids who mainly ate porridge and eggs and bread, was quite the treat. 

Of course, we really should have known such happiness wouldn’t last forever. 

After lunch we headed to the reptile house, a dimly lit sanctuary that held all the reptile and amphibians cages. The air was cool against my skin and it felt rather welcoming despite how some may think it seemed creepy.

Harry squeezed my hand excitedly and pointed out different types of lizards to me, reading their signs since he was in charge of the glasses and I couldn’t read well without them. Dudley and Piers, on the other hand, wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick, deadly, man-crushing pythons. Dudley quickly spotted the largest snake in the reptile house and pressed his face up close. It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Vernon's car and crushed it into a trash can, but at the moment it didn't look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep.

“Well, make it move!” Dudley whined as he rapped his knuckles on the glass, knowing full well that the lady who greeted them had said not to. 

Both Uncle Vernon and Piers joined in at calling the snake and tapping at the glass, but the snake continued to sleep. 

“Ugh! What a boring snake!” Dudley groaned and moved on. 

Harry, being the kind boy he was, walked up to the snakes tank and sighed softly. “Poor snake. Has to deal with buffoons like them all day.”

The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with Harry's.

It winked.

Harry stared. Then looked at me with wide eyes. “Did you see that?” I laughed and nodded. “Looks like you made a friend.” The snake turned to look at me and flicked its tongue out to smell the air, I stuck my tongue out back at it with a giggle. 

The snake jerked its head toward Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then rolled its eyes. It gave us a look that said: "I get that all the time.”

"I know," Harry murmured through the glass, though he wasn't sure the snake could hear him. "It must be really annoying."

The snake nodded back. 

"Where do you come from, anyway?" Harry asked and I watched in amusement as my brother talked to the snake. Harry Potter, snake whisperer!

The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. Harry peered at it.  
“Boa Constrictor, Brazil.” He read aloud so I could know as well, before looking at our new scaly friend. "Was it nice there?"

The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Harry read on: “This specimen was bred in the zoo... Oh, I see, so you've never been to Brazil?"

As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind us made all of us jump.

"DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!" Piers yelled and ran up beside me. 

Dudley came waddling toward us as fast as he could with his rolly polly legs. How he didn’t have a heart attack was beyond me. 

"Out of the way, you," he said, punching Harry in the ribs. Caught by surprise, Harry fell hard on the concrete floor. What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened -- one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror. 

The glass which had once been there, had suddenly disappeared, and Dudley and Piers, having almost fell into the tank, were putting up enough fuss to draw Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. I quickly grabbed Harry and pulled him to his feet, pushing him behind me slightly. 

The giant snake uncoiled itself from the heap it was laying in, and slowly slithered out and onto the cool floor. Dudley was beside himself, screaming like a little girl, and Piers had nearly fainted. 

The snake slid by us, giving one more wink as it went. Harry and I looked at each other with wide eyes when we swore we heard the same thing. 

“Brazil here I come... Thhhanksssss amigossss.” 

The two of us looked at each other. 

Had the snake just talked!?


	3. Book One: Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has given this story kudos so far! I will continue to work hard! I hope you all enjoy!

**Chapter Two: Violet Potter and the purple ink letters**

After the snake fiasco at the zoo, a few hours spent in the zoo directors office with Aunt Petunia practically weeping over her child almost being attacked by a snake, Dudley bragging about how he could have fought it to death, and Vernon’s incessant arguing, we finally headed home. Piers mother had been called and she had picked him up from the zoo, leaving Harry, Dudley, and I in the middle, in the back of the car.

Uncle Vernon waited patiently until he was inside the house to unleash his rage on us. He was so angry he could hardly speak. “You!” He pointed at Harry. “This was your fault wasn’t it!” 

“I didn’t do anything!” Harry cried and I grabbed his hand. 

Uncle Vernon wouldn’t let up though, “Piers said he saw you talking to the snake! You cursed child! You made the glass away you-“

“I did it!” I yelled without thought. The room went quiet. Aunt Petunia covered her mouth, Dudley was snickering, Uncle Vernon was processing and Harry looked mortified. Why did I just say that? Oh right... To protect Harry.

“Yes I did it! I made the glass go away! I have magic powers because... because...” I thought for a moment. I needed something so preposterous that would surely land me a great punishment. “Because I’m a witch!”

Uncle Vernon spluttered and Aunt Petunia shrieked at the very words. He grabbed me by the shoulder and dragged me to the cupboard under the stairs and threw me inside. 

“I don’t know how you got such, such... fiendish ideas in your head girl! Don’t you ever dare say such a word in this house hold! You’ll be in this cupboard for a week! No meals!” He shouted, spitting all over the place, almost as if he was a rabid dog foaming at the mouth. He slammed the door shut and I pressed my ear to the little slits in the door to listen outside.

“And you!” He yelled, most definitely at Harry, “Go up to the bedroom and stay there!” Harry seemed to hesitate, but I heard footsteps go up the stairs and a door close softly.

This made Dudley whine, because the room Harry was being sent to happened to be Dudley’s second room for all the toys he had either broken or abandoned. Luckily it had an actual bed that Harry could sprawl out on. 

Uncle Vernon sent Dudley off to play computer games in his room, and only he and Aunt Petunia were left downstairs to rant about the stress of the day. 

“One Potter child is enough! But Lily and James had to have two!”

Lily and James. That was about all I knew about my parents. Their names, besides the fact that they had died in a car accident and that, according to Aunt Petunia, I looked exactly like my mother had when she was young. She would say it in a sort of disgusted tone, and although I knew she meant it as an insult, I took it as a compliment. I had never seen a photo of my parents, but I would much rather look like them then my Aunt and Uncle. 

I lay there pondering all the weird things that had happened between Harry and I, and how this may be by far the weirdest. A talking snake? Everything that had happened before, may have been a fluke. Maybe Harry’s hair grew fast in one night due to genetics, maybe the roses I had gone to sheer had never actually been dead, maybe the bird who got better had never even been hurt... But a talking snake defied all realms of possibility. 

It wasn’t until after I had heard dinner finish and everyone had head to bed that I heard Harry. But not in person, no. Harry was tucked away safely upstairs in Dudley’s second bedroom. What I mean is that Harry and I were weird in one other way; if we really concentrated, we could talk to one another in our heads. Of course we had never told anyone about this, and any time we tried to figure out what was going on at the school library, the only thing we found was “twin telepathy”. We could only be so far away to do it, and we had to be very concentrated, but I suppose twins are just more connected in some ways.

 _You shouldn’t have done that for me._ Came Harry’s voice in my head. _You’ll be stuck in there without food for a whole week. I don’t think he was lying._

 _It’s fine._ I thought back, curling up on my side. _Besides, now you get to have a nice bedroom. I can keep myself company with my books._

Ever since I was young and could first understand the alphabet, I had liked reading. I liked it because every new story brought my mind farther and farther away from 4 Privet Drive and the Dursley family. Obviously Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia didn’t support this hobby of mine, and would never buy me books, but there was enough books within the house that Dudley had got but never used that I could sneak a few away. Harry always supported me though. He liked books alright, but he hadn’t the passion for them like I do. He much preferred I read them to him so he could day dream about the words I spoke. 

One night, I had been reading to Harry a book about hobbits and elves and wizards on a quest to destroy some evil ring, when Uncle Vernon had opened the door and caught us reading by flashlight. He had taken my book and any other ones he found laying around and had put it up so high on a shelf that if I had tried to get it, he would hear. I had cried for days, and had been bored out of my mind, until a week later Harry came in after saying he would be going to the bathroom, but instead returned with sheets of paper. I still don’t know how he did it, but Harry had found a way to climb and get the book, had copied word-for-word a few chapters of the story on scrap paper and had brought it to me. The book didn’t even look like it had moved from its spot, so Uncle Vernon wouldn’t be suspicious. I had hugged Harry so hard and cried for a whole other reason that night.

 _Are you sure?_ Harry thought to me.

 _Yes! I promise! I’ll be fine in here... It is a bit lonely without you though._ I replied.

It was as if I could hear Harry chuckle and then feel him nod in agreement. Read to me?

I smiled and crawled over to the edge of our thin mattress and peeled it back to find a worn book laying there. “The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood” was one of my absolute favourites. Something about a hero who wasn’t always doing good things, but did them to fight for justice, really got to me.

 _Alright. Here we go. Chapter Ten..._ I read to myself and to Harry’s mind.

The rest of the night was spent with us giggling over the story until we were too tired to stay awake.

* * *

 

A while later in mid July, after I had been thoroughly punished for the snake incident and then once again for accidentally breaking a fancy china dish, Harry and I were helping get dinner ready.

I was mashing potatoes, a job I actually liked to have because I could look down at all the little potatoes and pretend they were Dudley’s face as I smushed them, and Harry was putting green beans on the table.

Aunt Petunia was baking pork chops, which she believed was far too important a job to leave to us. She was also watching as Dudley paraded around the dining room and living room in his new, ugly looking Smeltings uniform. I mean, who chose maroon and orange as their school colours? Smeltings was a private middle school for kids with money. Uncle Vernon, who was an alumni of such a school, watched with pride as his son swung around his Smeltings stick, a long fancy piece of wood the kids were allowed to carry to bat at each other with when teachers weren’t around.

Harry and I would be attending no such place. Instead, we would be heading to Stonewall High, a middle school for those without money to throw around on expensive uniforms and fancy beating sticks. Our uniform was supposed to be soft grey sweaters and pants, but Aunt Petunia assured us that dying Dudley’s old clothes grey would suffice. We weren’t too excited for school, evidently. 

“Look at my little Duddy-Duddy, looking all grown up with his uniform! So handsome!” Aunt Petunia crooned.

“Looks just like his father!” Uncle Vernon chuckled from the dinner table.

Harry and I made eye contact and both groaned in disgust.

From the front door we all paused when we heard the audible click of the mail slot. 

“Get the mail Dudley.” Uncle Vernon said as he raised his newspaper.

“Make Harry do it!” 

“Get the mail Harry.”

“Make Dudley do it!”

“Smack him with your Smelting stick Dudley.” 

“I’ll get it.” I sighed and put the pot of smushed up potato-dudley-faces on the table. 

There were four things laying on the doormat when I got there; a postcard to Uncle Vernon from his sister Marge who was on a vacation, a brown envelope that looked like a bill of some kind and two pristine white envelops. One addressed to Harry and one to myself. 

We had never had any mail addressed to us at all. We didn’t even know enough people to have anyone to write to us. Yet here they were.

Ms. V. Potter

The Cupboard Under the Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

The exact same was written on Harry’s except with his name written instead of mine. Both envelopes were thick and made of beautiful parchment that just felt good under my fingers and had an odd thick wax seal on the front. My note had been scrawled with a beautiful purple ink, just like the colour of my name. Harry’s was written with a gorgeous emerald green ink, the colour of our eyes. 

Too excited to speak, I mentally called for Harry. Harry! You wont believe it! We got mail, us!

What!? Came the surprised voice back and she heard him scurry through the kitchen to come see. 

“Letters.” He whispered. “For us?”

I nodded and handed him his. He looked just as shocked as I did, eyes wide like an owl. “There’s no return address or stamp.” I whispered back.

“I wonder who its from.”

Dudley, obviously having missed his two favourite punching toys suddenly came from behind us and snatched Harry’s letter from his hand.

“What’s this!?” Dudley yelled in confusion. 

“Hey! Give it back!” Harry yelled.

Dudley sneered. “Nuh uh!” 

I stepped forward, “Dudley, if you don’t give Harry back his letter I’ll shove that Smeltings stick where the sun dont shine!” I didn’t exactly know what that meant, but I had heard it from the TV one night when Uncle Vernon was watching some mafia movie.

Dudley looked horrified, but instead of giving Harry the letter back, he spotted mine and snatched it as well, turning and running as hard as he could to the dining room.

“Dad!” Dudley yelled and Harry and I looked at each other and both then ran after him. “Dad! Harry and Violet got something in the mail!”

Uncle Vernon scoffed at the idea, but then paused when he saw that Dudley, in fact had two letters that did not fit in with the regular mail. “Give them here boy!” He said and took them, opening mine. One look was all it took to drain the colour from Uncle Vernon’s face and I couldn’t understand why. He tore Harry’s open as well and looked absolutely ghostly. 

“Those are ours! Give them back!” I demanded in my best authoritative voice, but it didn’t work.

“P-P-P-Petunia!” Uncle Vernon cried, as if he hadn’t heard me. 

“What is it dear- OH!” She shrieked as she peered over his shoulder. 

They stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten that Harry, Dudley and I were even still in the room. Dudley wasn't used to being ignored, especially by his parents. He gave his father a swift whack on the head with his Smelting stick.

"I want to read that letter," he said loudly. 

“No, I want to read it," said Harry furiously, "they’re mine and Violets!" I couldn’t have agreed more. 

"Get out, all of you," croaked Uncle Vernon, stuffing the letter back inside its envelope.

I opened my mouth to argue, but he yelled “OUT!” In his most serious tone, the one that sounded like a drill Sargent, so we all quickly fled, but as soon as they had shut the living room door behind us, we all pressed to it. Dudley claimed the key hole, so Harry lay on the floor, ear to the crack, and I pressed myself against the hinges in hopes to hear. 

“Vernon," Aunt Petunia was saying in a quivering voice, "look at the address, how could they possibly know where they sleep? You don't think they're watching the house?"

"Watching, spying, might be following us," muttered Uncle Vernon wildly like a lunatic.

"But what should we do, Vernon? Should we write back? Tell them we don't want-" but she was quickly interrupted. "No," said Uncle Vernon.  "No, we'll ignore it. If they don't get an answer... Yes, that's best... we won't do anything....”

"But --"

"I'm not having one, much less two of them in the house, Petunia! Didn't we swear when we took them in we'd stamp out that dangerous nonsense?" Vernon was huffing, and when we all heard his heels clicking closer, we scurried away, Harry and I back to our cupboard and Dudley off to who knows where. 

We were informed by Aunt Petunia that we would be staying in our cupboard until further notice. Which could be days, we knew from experience. Harry and I didn’t even know what to do. Our heads were too much in a tizzy for books or imagination at all. 

“Who would mail us?” I asked. If I could pace, I would, instead I settled for rolling around on the mattress until my head landed in Harry’s lap and I looked up at his be-speckled face. 

Harry shook his head. “I’m just as confused... but one things for certain-“

“We have to get those letters.” We said at the same time, but Uncle Vernon had gone to work, and we both knew they would never leave something behind that was causing this much fuss. So it was a waiting game. 

“So tonight, we’ll sneak out of the cupboard?” Violet asked. 

Harry nodded. “We’ll search the whole house if we have to. We have to know what’s in those envelopes.”

But they didn’t need to wait long, because when Uncle Vernon came home from work, he opened the cupboard under the stairs and looked at us. We blinked in surprise. He never did this. 

“Where’s our letters!?” I asked instantly. 

Harry quickly added, “who’s been writing us?”

“No one!” Uncle Vernon said a bit too quickly. He cleared his thick throat and huffed. “Addressed to the wrong people. I burned them up.”

“What!?” Harry and I yelled in unison. 

“How was it wrong! They knew our names!” I urged. 

Vernon scowled. “Potter is a common last name.”

“Oh sure, because there’s another pair of V and H Potters someplace nearby!” I growled. “Do you think we’re idiots!?”

“It has our cupboard on it!” Harry joined in my assault. 

"Er, yes, Harry, Violet... about this cupboard. Your aunt and I have been thinking... you two are really getting a bit big for it...” _No kidding!_ I thought amidst his rant. “We think it might be nice if you moved into Dudley's second bedroom.”

"Why?" said Harry, suspicious. 

"Don't ask questions!" snapped our uncle. “Now, take this stuff upstairs. Now." He repeated just in case we hadn’t heard the first time. 

It didn’t take us long to bring our belongings upstairs, considering we didn’t have many to begin with. The bedroom upstairs was a bit bigger for the two of us, but was the smallest actual bedroom of the house. There was another guest bedroom, but that was strictly for guests which mostly meant Uncle Vernon’s sister Marge. We weren’t allowed inside because according to Aunt Petunia, Marge didn’t want our grubby little hands on anything. It was fine in my eyes. I knew I would have to sleep separate from Harry eventually, but I wasn’t quite ready to part from him. 

The two of us organized our things and climbed into the double bed, much more space for our limbs. We sprawled out and our bones sighed in relief. 

From downstairs we heard Dudley sobbing and throwing a grade A temper tantrum. Every so often there was the sound of something smashing, which Harry and I assumed was Dudley furiously attacking anything breakable with his smelting stick. 

We also agreed that we would much rather have our letters than be in the big room, but at least we had this. We went to bed that night dreaming about letters and purple and green ink. 

The next morning was deathly quiet. Aunt Petunia hadn’t woken us up with her shrill squawking, but instead we came down to breakfast already made and on the table. And it didn’t seem like we were having porridge, but rather what everyone else was having. Harry and I squeezed each other’s hands and sat next to each other, confused. 

Dudley also seemed quite taken aback. No amount of crying or whinging would get him back his second bedroom, and the fact that we were having the same food as him off the same plates was preposterous. 

When the mail arrived, Uncle Vernon, who seemed to be trying to be nice to us, made Dudley go and get it. We heard him banging things with his Smelting stick all the way down the hall. Then he shouted, "There's another one! 'Mr. H. Potter, The Smallest Bedroom, 4 Privet Drive . And another for Violet!”

The room suddenly turned into a disaster. Harry and I jumped from our seats, but somehow Uncle Vernon, the great oaf, was faster. We ran after him and just as he snatched the letters from Dudley, we launched our formulated attack. It’s like we just knew. Harry grabbed him around the neck and shoulders and I went right for the shins. All of us quickly came tipping down, fighting for the white parchment letters covered in purple and green ink. 

After a long winded, confusing scuffle where I got smacked with the smelting stick on the shoulder enough times to give a bruise, Uncle Vernon threw us off of him and wheezed, “Go to your cupboard, I mean, your bedroom," then turned to his son “Dudley, go, just go."

Harry and I stayed up late that night formulating a new attack strategy. The next morning at 6am we snuck from bed and down the stairs to the door, but we were already beaten there by Uncle Vernon who was asleep at the mail slot. Already in his lap was six letters. Three of which were addressed to Harry in green ink and the other three in purple. He woke with a start and glared at Harry and me. 

“We want-“ Harry began but before he could say anymore, he was already ripping them to shreds. 

Uncle Vernon didnt go to work that day. He stayed at home and nailed up the mail slot. “See," he explained to Aunt Petunia through a mouthful of nails, "if they can't deliver them they'll just give up."

"I'm not sure that'll work, Vernon."

"Oh, these people's minds work in strange ways, Petunia, they're not like you and me," said Uncle Vernon, but it was fruitless. 

On Friday, more letters made their way into the house through crooks and crannies of doors and windows. Uncle Vernon boarded those up too. On Saturday they came down the chimney. He covered that with a thick piece of wood. Sunday, he thought he would have a reprieve, as no mail came on sundays, but he was wrong. 

Windows were thrown open and a gust of wind brought in hundreds. Harry and I desperately tried to grab some but were unable. We watched as Uncle Vernon slowly drove himself mad. 

One day, a few days before Harry and my birthday, he woke us up with a start, demanding we all pack our bags and telling us we wouldn’t be back for a while. He drove us every which way. First we stayed in hotels and motels, but the managers would wind up bringing us letters. Then we stayed in a small village secluded from others, but the milk man brought along letters too. Uncle Vernon was beside himself. He was twitchy and angry and completely insane. 

The final destination took us to a private island the day before Harry and I’s birthday. It was in the middle of nowhere and had to be accessed by a boat. While Uncle Vernon was rowing us there, we heard him mutter: “storm coming in... can’t find them here... can’t follow.. no mail, no mail!” 

The inside of the seaside shack was horrible; it smelled strongly of seaweed, the wind whistled through the gaps in the wooden walls, and the fireplace was damp and empty. There were only two rooms, a poor excuse for a den and a single bedroom, so that night Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon whisked off to the only bed, and Dudley got the creaking, worn down couch. That left Harry and I to find the least dirty bit of floor there was in this place to settle down.

The wind was freezing and storm was howling outside. Harry and I only had one blanket to share and it was shoddy to begin with. So instead of sleeping, we curled up next to each other on the floor and drew designs into the dust laying there. Harry was drawing a birthday cake and I drew balloons. 

“It’s not every day you turn eleven and are whisked off to a murder island by your deranged uncle.” I whispered to Harry in attempt to cheer him up a bit. He had been so down lately and I understood why. We both wanted, no needed, desperately to know who was sending these letters and what was inside. Now it seemed like we wouldn’t get the chance. 

Harry’s face cracked a bit of a smile and he looked at me. “Life would be a lot more sad without you.” He laughed quietly. 

“Life would be a lot more boring, you mean.” I teased. 

“Yeah yeah.” He smiled and then lay back on the ground. “How much longer?”

I crawled quietly over to the couch, peering at the digital watch on Dudley’s fat wrist. 

“Five minutes.” I sighed and crawled back. 

“For some reason, I felt like everything might have changed for us when we turned eleven. I guess I was wrong.” Harry mumbled. 

“Somehow I felt the same.” I agreed and rest my head on his shoulder. “Three minutes.”

There was a crash outside that made us both jerk. “What was that!?” I hissed. 

“It couldn’t be something? Could it? We’re on a private island for goodness sakes!” Harry said back in a hushed tone. 

I looked at Dudleys watch. Two minutes until midnight. 

Another crash and I grabbed Harry, trying to secure him beside me. 

One minute. 

“I swear there was something there.” Harry whispered. 

Thirty seconds. 

Ten. 

Five. 

Three... two.. one. 

 _CRASH_. 


	4. Book One: Chapter Three

**Book One - Chapter Three: Violet Potter and the Birthday Surprise**

  
At the stroke of midnight the only door to the seaward shack came falling down like a drawbridge. The loud slamming noise was enough to startle Dudley awake, which was saying something because he once slept though a terribly noisy band performance at school. 

I jumped at the noise and let out an audible gasp. Harry, behind me, yelped and grabbed my arm. 

In the door stood what looked to be a giant. A hairy giant. He was wider than Uncle Vernon, which looked quiet average compared to his tall stature. He was  
so much taller then an average man that he had to duck through the door as he came lumbering in. 

A flash of lightning and the dying embers of the fire revealed his face to us, though it was mostly hidden by bushels of rough, frizzy black hair and an equally as thick, matching beard. He had a wide nose and big dark eyes... that I swore looked very kind. 

Before Harry, the giant or I could say anything, the creaky door of the only bedroom shot open and a bewildered Uncle Vernon came stumbling out of it, long barreled gun in hand, followed by Aunt Petunia.

“Who goes there!? Who are you!?” He yelled, visibly shaking as he held the gun in tight fists. “I warn you! I-I won’t hesitate to shoot!”

“Ahw, sod off, Ye’ grand oaf.” The man huffed and after picking up the door he had thrown from its hinges and placed back, he lumbered towards the couch, which caused Dudley to jump straight up and run behind his mother faster then i had ever seen him move before. 

The giant man grunted softly as he sat down on the sofa, with the sound of splintering wood. I was surprised it didn’t crack in half.

“Could use a hot cuppa’ tea, the rain made for a long journey...” He hummed as he got comfortable, pulling out an umbrella from his coats. 

“V-Vernon! Wh-Wh-Who is that!?” Aunt Petunia absolutely stuttered and shrieked.

“How should I know!” Her husband barked back.

The large, mysterious man ignored the squabbling, and instead turned his eyes to Harry and I, the brown depths practically sparkled with familiarity and warmth. His face crinkled in a smile.

“Violet! Harry!” He boomed joyously, “Las’ time I saw the two of yeh’s was when yeh were just wee little things.”

Harry and I looked at each other with wide eyes. This man knew our names? More importantly, the man had known us when we were children?

“Harry! Yeh look like the spittin’ image of yer dad! Violet, just as beautiful as yer mum!” The giant chuckled, a deep belly laugh. “Yeh both got yer mum’s eyes though, innit?”

This seemed to cause Uncle Vernon quite the frustration.

“You are breaking and entering! I demand you leave at once, sir!” He bellowed, raising the barrel of the rifle in his quaking hands.

“Oh can it, yeh old toad!” The giant huffed. He reached back and snatched the gun from Uncle Vernons hand, and as if he was some strong man from the carnival, he twisted the metal barrel of the gun into a perfect knot.

Harry and I were left wide eyed. Aunt Petunia screamed, Dudley cried and Uncle Vernon squeaked like a rat.

“Anyway, Harry, Violet..." hummed the giant, turning his back on the Dursley’s and toward Harry and I. "A very happy birthday to yeh. Got summfin’ fer yeh here... Hmm where’d’it get to... Ah there it ‘tis... I mightuh sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right." From the coat he had removed the umbrella from, the man removed a white box tied with ribbon and held it out. 

I reached out hesitantly and took it, Harry coming beside me and removing the green and purple ribbons. I’m sure any normal person would have instantly thought the unmarked package was dangerous; a bomb, a dead animal, anything of the sort... But I was not normal, nor was Harry, and I got the feeling it was going to be alright.

Harry opened it to reveal none other then a slightly squashed white birthday cake. Piped onto of it was ‘Happee Birthdae Violet & Harry’ with green and purple icings.

Harry and Violet shared a look and then looked back to the man. They should have said thank you, instead, at the same time, they both asked, “Who are you?”

“Aye, blimey!” The giant chuckled and rubbed the back of his head. “Forgot all ‘bout introducin’ meself! Rubeus Hagrid, ye’ can call me Hagrid though. Everyone does. Keeper o’ the Keys at Hogwarts, but you’ll be knowing all about that, I’m sure.”

My eyebrows furrowed. “Keeper of the Keys where?”

It was followed by, “What’s Hogwarts?” By Harry.

Hagrid’s beetle like eyes grew twice in size. “Ye can’t be tellin’ me you don’t know of Hogwarts!” The two of us shook our heads at him. “I knew ye’ two hadn’t been gettin’ yer letters, but this too? Where else would yer parents ‘ave learned it all!?”

“Learned all of what?” Asked Harry.

“ALL WHAT?" Hagrid’s voice boomed louder then the storm. "Now wait jus' one second!"

Hagrid jumped to his feet in his anger. The Dursleys were cowering against the wall.

"Do you mean tuh tell me," he growled at the Dursleys, "that these children, _these children_ , knows nothin' about ANYTHING?"

Violet frowned. Of course she knew something otherwise why had she and Harry gone to school all these years? Harry seemed to be in the same mind as me.

"I know some things," he said. "I can, you know, do math and stuff." 

But Hagrid simply waved his hand and said, "About our world, I mean. Your world. My world. Yer parents' world."

Harry grabbed my hand and frowned, "What world?"

Hagrid looked as if he was about to explode.

"DURSLEY!" he absolutely thundered.

Uncle Vernon looked like he was going to faint at any near moment. Aunt Petunia and Dudley looked like they might vomit.

“Well yeh must know about yet mom and dad," Hagrid said hopefully, looking between Harry and I. "I mean, they're famous. Yer both famous."

“Our parents were... famous?” I blinked in shock. We hadn’t known that at all. Who was this man that he knew so much about our parents. Had he known them?

"Yeh don' know... yeh don' know..." Hagrid stroked his fingers across his beard. Finally he said, "Yeh don' know what yeh are?"

“What we are?” Harry peered.

“Yes, what are we?” I pressed.

Hagrid’s groaned and glared at our Aunt and Uncle. “Yuh never told ‘em, did you?”

“Told us what!?” Harry and I yelled together, fed up with being out of the loop. 

This seemed to spur Uncle Vernon from his petrified state. “STOP! I FORBID IT!”

Aunt Petunia gasped, sounding more horrified then we she found out her old classmates had married into a rich family. 

Hagrid ignored them and looked at us, sincerity dancing through his dark eyes. “Yuh come from a powerful line of magic, the two of you. Harry, yer a wizard, and Violet, yer a witch.”

“A what!?” Harry gasped.

“Witch?” I repeated. I was a witch? I couldn’t believe my own ears. The only time I had ever heard about witches was from fantasy books and once in history class when we learned that old Salem Witches were burned for being alive. That couldn’t be possible... But then I remembered what happened with the candles, the dead roses, the injured bird. Maybe that meant I was a witch? What did that mean for me? Would I be burned?

“Witches and wizards, o' course," said Hagrid, sitting back down on the sofa, which groaned and sank even lower, "an' I suspect the two of yeh would be thumpin' good'uns, once yeh've been trained up a bit. With a mum an' dad like yers, what else would yeh be? An' I reckon it's abou' time yeh read yer letter."

From his pockets he produced two letter, similar to what we had seen before; off white envelopes scrawled with green ink for Harry and deep purple ink for myself. The two of us scooped up the letters like they were treasure, peeling the wax seal carefully and pulling out the parchment.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY 

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Ms. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31. 

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress

A million questions swam through my mind, and before I could voice any of them, Harry looked up at Hagrid and asked, “What does it mean, they await an owl?”

"Gallopin' Gorgons, that reminds me," said Hagrid, clapping a hand to his forehead with enough force to knock over a cart horse, and from yet another pocket inside his overcoat he pulled an owl, a real, live, rather ruffled-looking owl, a long quill, and a roll of parchment. With his tongue between his teeth he scribbled a note that Harry and I peered at upside down:

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

Given the twins their letters.

Taking them to buy their things tomorrow. Weather's horrible. 

Hope you're Well. 

Hagrid

Hagrid folded up the note and handed it to the owl, along with a coin. He stood from the couch, which creaked in relief, and threw the owl into the storm out of the nearest window.

“Where was I?" said Hagrid, humming to himself. 

"They are not going!” Uncle Vernon yelled louder than ever before and I jumped at the noise, Harry grabbing me for support. 

"I'd like tuh see a great Muggle like you stop Albus Dumbledore!" Harris scoffed. 

"A what?" said Harry, asking the very question I was thinking. 

"A Muggle," said Hagrid, "it's what we call nonmagic folk like them. An' it's yer bad luck the two of ye’ had tuh grow up in a family o' the biggest Muggles I ever laid eyes on."

  
"We swore when we took them in we'd put a stop to that rubbish," said Uncle Vernon, "swore we'd stamp it out of them!"

My head snapped towards my uncle and I realized... right, he must have known this whole time. He knew the whole time and never told us, not even a hint. It suddenly made sense why I was never allowed to read fantasy books or talk about anything imaginative at all. 

  
"You knew?" Asked Harry. 

"Why would you never tell us?" I frowned. 

"Of course we would never tell you!” shrieked Aunt Petunia suddenly. "Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that, that school, and came home every vacation with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was; a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!"

She stopped to draw a deep breath and then went ranting on. It seemed she had been wanting to say all this for years.  
"Then she met that Potter at school and they left and got married and had the two of you, and of course I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as abnormal, and then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you!"

Harry had gone pale, my heart suddenly skipped a beat.

“It wasn’t an accident?” I whispered. 

"Blown up? You told me they died in a car crash!" Harry yelled. 

"CAR CRASH!" roared Hagrid, jumping up so angrily that the Dursleys scuttled back to their corner. "How could a car crash kill Lily an'James Potter? It's an outrage! A scandal! Harry Potter, Violet Potter!? Not even knowin' theys own story when every kid in our world knows their names!" 

"But why? What happened?" Harry asked urgently.

The anger faded from Hagrid's face. He looked suddenly anxious. “I never expected this," he said, in a low, worried voice. "I had no idea, when Dumbledore told me there might be trouble gettin' hold of yehs, how much yeh didn't know.”

This man seemed plenty nice, but it couldn’t stop the feral curiosity bubbling inside of me. “Hagrid! Please! Tell us!”

Hagrid looked like he was sweating beneath all that hair.  “Ah, Violet...” he looked and me and then to my brother, “Harry, i... I don' know if I'm the right person tuh tell yeh, but someones gotta... yeh can't go off ter Hogwarts not knowin'."

He drew a deep breath, "It begins, I suppose, with, with a person called, but it's incredible yeh don't know his name, everyone in our world knows-"

“Hagrid!” I yelped impatiently.

"Well... I don' like sayin' the name if I can help it. No one does." 

"Why not?" Harry asked and looked at me. “What’s so scary about a name?” I shrugged. People still feared Hitler but had no problem saying his name. 

"Gulpin' gargoyles, Harry, people are still scared.” He looked at my brother and then my inquisitive face and sighed, “Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this wizard who went... bad. As bad as you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. His name was..."

Hagrid fell short, no words coming from his quaking lips. 

"Could you write it down?" Harry suggested.

"Nah -can't spell it. All right... Voldemort. " Hagrid shuddered. "Don' make me say it again. Anyway, this... this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin' fer followers. Got 'em, too. Some were  
afraid, some just wanted a bit o' his power, 'cause he was gettin' himself power, all right. Dark days. Didn't know who ter trust, didn't dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches... terrible  
things happened. He was takin' over. 'Course, some stood up to him... an' he killed 'em. Horribly. One o' the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn't dare try takin' the school, not jus' then, anyway.”

He took a second to breath and as he did, my mind kept repeating the same name over and over and over again. Voldemort. 

Hagrid continued, “Now, yer mum an' dad were as good a witch an' wizard as I ever knew. Head boy an' girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the mystery is why You-Know-Who never tried to get 'em on his side before... probably knew they were too close tuh Dumbledore tuh want anythin' tuh do with theDark Side. Maybe he thought he could persuade 'em... maybe he just wanted 'em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Halloween ten years ago. Yous was just a year old each. He came tuh yer house an’..."

“He killed them.” The words fell from my lips like thousand pound weights. 

Hagrid pulled from his jacket, a very dirty, spotted handkerchief and blew his nose whilst nodding. 

“But that’s not all, this is the real myst'ry of the thing... he tried to kill you too, the both of yous. Wanted tuh make a clean job of it, I suppose, or maybe he just liked killin' by then. But he couldn't do it. Never wondered how you got those marks on yer forehead? That was no ordinary cut. That's what yeh get when a Powerful, evil curse touches yeh.” Harry and I simultaneously reached up and touched our marks. “He took care of yer mum an' dad an' yer house, even... but it didn't  
work on you, an' that's why the two of yuh are famous. No one ever lived after  
he decided ter kill 'em, no one except you, an' he'd killed some o' the best witches an' wizards of the age, an' yous was only just a pair of babies, an' you lived. He must ‘ave been even more angry when not just one but the both of yuhs lives to tell the tale."

Something very painful was going on in Harry's mind, and I could feel it. As Hagrid's story came to a close, I felt, or more like saw the pain pulsing through Harry’s mind and then suddenly there was the trace of blinding flashing light, more clearly than either of us had ever remembered it before. From the back of my own mind I remembered something else, for the first time in my life: bubbling from the deep subconscious of my own memory was a high, cold, cruel laugh, like nails on a chalk board, or the squealing of train brakes, or death. 

Harry and I looked at each other. 

 _Did you hear that?_ I asked telepathically. 

Harry nodded slowly and then, _Did you see the light?_

I nodded back. 

Hagrid was unaware of the silent conversation transcribing between us and sniffled into his handkerchief, “Took the two of yeh from the ruined house myself, on Dumbledore's orders. Brought yeh ter this lot..."

"Load of old tosh," said Uncle Vernon. 

Harry and I jumped; I had almost forgotten that the Dursleys were there. Uncle Vernon certainly seemed to have got back his courage. He was glaring at Hagrid and his fists were clenched.

"Now, you listen here, you two brats," he snarled, "I accept there's something strange about you, probably nothing a good beating wouldn't have cured,” I grit my teeth at that thought. He had already beat us enough as it was and it hadn’t help make us any more normal, “and as for all this about your parents, well, they were weirdos, no denying it, and the world's better off without them in my opinion. Asked for all they got, getting mixed up with these wizarding types, just what I expected, always knew they'd come to a sticky end-"

My eyes stared daggers into my Uncle’s soul. Harry clutches my hand tighter and I felt the anger radiating off of him. I swore I felt a shock of something powerful like lightning spread through our intertwined fingers... But at that moment, Hagrid leapt from the sofa and drew up his battered pink umbrella, pointing it at Uncle Vernon like a sword, he said, "I'm warning you, Dursley. I'm warning you. One more word..."

In danger of being speared on the end of an umbrella by a bearded giant, Uncle Vernon's courage failed again; he flattened himself against the wall and fell silent.

"That's better," said Hagrid, breathing heavily and sitting back down on the sofa, which this time sagged right down to the floor, snapping entirely. Hagrid didn’t seem to realize it maybe he just didn’t care. 

Harry, meanwhile, still had questions to ask, hundreds of them and I was right on his tale. "But what happened to Vol-“ Hagrid’s face scrunched up as if the word pained him. “Sorry, I mean, You-Know-Who?"

I wanted to know too. Wanted to know where the vile man who harmed my family was. 

"Good question, Harry. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried tuh kill you. Makes yehs even more famous. That's the biggest myst'ry, see... he was gettin' more an' more powerful... but why'd he go? Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he's still out there, bidin' his time, like, but I don' believe it. People who was on his side came back tuh ours. Some of 'em came outta some kinda trance. Dun’ reckon they could've done it if he was comin' back.”

Harry looked at me and we shared a silent relief. If there was one thing I was most afraid of in the world, was Harry getting hurt, and if he was still powerful... then he could hurt him again. 

"Most of us reckon he's still out there somewhere but lost his powers. Too weak to carry on. 'Cause somethin' about you two finished him. There was somethin' goin' on that night he hadn't counted on, I dunno what it was, no one does, but somethin' about you stumped him, all right."

Hagrid looked at us with warmth and respect blazing in his eyes. 

“You mean to say... that Harry and I...” I pointed at the two of us. “Defeated the Voldemort-“ Hagrid made a groan of detest but I continued, “the most powerful and greatest sorcerer here was?” I couldn’t believe it. 

"Hagrid," Harry said quietly from beside me, "I think you must have made a mistake. I don't think I can be a wizard.”

Hagrid laughed. “Of course yeh did, Violet. If yehs hadn’t he would still be around and the world would be much worse off.” He turned to Harry then, “Not a wizard, eh? Never made things happen when you was scared or angry?"

Harry looked at me sheepishly and then into the fire. I suppose there were times that things had happened to Harry that he hadn’t told me either. 

“The zoo...” I whispered in realization. Harry had made the glass disappear. It was because he was a wizard? Was that why they could understand the snake?

"A zoo?" Laughed Hagrid. "I’m sure that’s a story you’ll have to tell me another time. But as you can see Violet and Harry Potter, no magic? You wait, you'll be right famous at Hogwarts."

But Uncle Vernon wasn't going to give in without a fight. "Haven't I told you they’re not going?" he hissed. "They’re going to Stonewall High and they’ll be grateful for it. I've read those letters and they need  
all sorts of rubbish; spell books and wands and-"

"If they want tuh go, a great Muggle like you won't stop him," growled Hagrid. "Stop Lily an' James Potter's children from goin' tuh Hogwarts! Yer mad. Their name's been down ever since theys was born. Theys off tuh the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and they won't know themselves. They’ll be with youngsters of their own sort fer a change. Harry could learn about magical creatures, Violet could fly a broomstick!”

“Magical creatures?” Harry asked awestruck. 

“Broomstick?” I squeaked. I had never liked heights.

“I won’t be havin their potential be wasted by a Muggle school! They’ll learn under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had Albus Dumbled--"

"I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL To TEACH HIM MAGIC TRICKS!" yelled Uncle Vernon.

But he had finally gone too far. Hagrid seized his umbrella and whirled  
it over his head, "NEVER," he thundered, "- INSULT- ALBUS- DUMBLEDORE- IN- FRONT- OF- ME!" He brought the umbrella swishing down through the air to point at Dudley who had abandoned the situation in light of the half smushed cake he realized was going uneaten. There was a flash of purple light, a sound like a firecracker, a sharp squeal, and the next second, Dudley was dancing on the spot with his hands clasped over his fat bottom, howling in pain. When he turned his back to us, I saw a curly pig's tail poking through a hole in his trousers.

“That’ll teach yeh!” Hagrid roared. 

Uncle Vernon yelled in terror, Aunt Petunia shrieked so hard she fainted and Dudley yelled as he jumped in pain, far tears making a mess of his face. Uncle Vernon gave us one last glare before pulling his family into the other room and slammed the door behind them.

Hagrid looked down at his umbrella and stroked his beard. "Shouldn'ta lost me temper," he said ruefully and looked at us with a gleam of mischief in his eyes, "but it didn't work anyway. Meant ter turn him into a pig, but I suppose he was so much like a pig anyway there wasn't much left ter do. I’d be rather grateful if yeh didn't mention that tuh anyone at Hogwarts," he said. "I'm, errr... not supposed tuh do magic, strictly speakin'. I was allowed tuh do a bit tuh follow yeh an' get yer letters to yeh an' stuff ... one o' the reasons I was so keen ter take on the job.”

"Why aren't you supposed to do magic?" asked Harry.

"Oh... Well, I was at Hogwarts meself but I, errr, got expelled, tuh tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half an' everything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore." 

I raised a brow, "Why were you expelled?"

"It's gettin' late and we've got lots tuh do tomorrow," said Hagrid rather loudly, trying to get off topic. "Gotta get up tuh town, get all yer books an' that.” He rambled and looked out the window at the storm. “Hmm, hate ter go out in that sorta weather but...” He looked over at the bedroom door and huffed. “If yous two wouldn’t mind it, I would like tuh get out of here before I make any more mistakes.”

I frowned and looked out the window. “But how are we supposed to get off the island? If we use a boat now we’ll sink!”

“Yeah Hagrid, how did you get here in the first place?” Harry asked in confusion.

A big mischievous grin lit up Hagrid face and he pulled the door from its hinges again. “Ill show yeh. But first...” He pulled off his giant jacket and threw it over both harry and I, covering us completely. “Yuhs two can use that to stay warm and dry.” 

We looked at him like he was a loon for walking out into an electrical storm, but we were equally as crazy to follow.

He took us around the side of the howling, dilapidated shack, the two of us huddled under his jacket that smelt oddly like soot and hay, while the rain tumbled down on us. It kept us dry, like Hagrid said it would, and still felt warm from his body heat, or maybe because it was just warm on its own? Either way, we watched safely from the comfort of the coat as Hagrid reached around a bush and pulled out what looked like a big hunk of metal, which we soon recognized as a motorcycle.

“Hagrid!” I yelled over the storm and crashing waves. “How did you get a motorcycle here!?”

“Well I flew it here, of course!” He laughed as if it was obvious.

“Oh right, of course.” I mumbled, eyes still wide. Harry giggled beside me. 

“Ye’see, I’m not supposed to be using anymore magic now that I’ve got yous... but I dont think Dumbledore will be too upset for givin ya a ride.” Hagrid spoke over the storm, his voice easily heard over the thunder and pelting rain. “‘Sides, I ‘ad a sidecar installed and err’ything just for this trip!” 

Harry and I leaned over and looked, and there was indeed a sidecar attached to the hulking motor cycle. It was humorously small in comparison to the large automobile but would easily fit Harry and I.

Hagrid swung his leg over the seat and looked at us expectantly. We blinked back.

“Well c’mon now! We don’t got all night!” He smiled. 

Harry looked at me, I looked at him, and though it was absolutely bonkers to be climbing into a supposedly flying motorcycles sidecar in the middle of a storm on a secluded island, we did just that. 

Anything was better then here.

Once we got seated, Harry on the inside of the sidecar closest to Hagrid and I on the outside, still bundled in the coat, Hagrid kicked up the stand and turned on the engine. It spluttered at first, low and rumbling for only moments later it roared to life like a wild lion. 

“Hold on tight! The storm’ll make this a bumpy ride!”  

We shot into the night sky faster then a horse out of the gate. I screamed louder then I ever had, though the sound was lost to the electric storm. Somehow, the motorcycle was flying. _Flying_! I didn’t believe it at first, but the feeling of my stomach being jumbled around like a rollercoaster ride was more then real enough for me to understand everything Hagrid said must be true. Magic was real, and Harry and I had it in our blood.

Beside me, Harry hooted and hollered in excitement, his green eyes lit up in excitement. He looked at me with wide eyes and mouthed something that seemed like, “Can you believe this!?” I couldn’t believe a flying motorcycle, but I could understand that the queasy feeling in my stomach meant I would loose the contents of my stomach if I tried to speak. I settled for a big smile.

Despite my fear of heights, the ride was actually enjoyable. It was the first time I had ever felt so free. Something about soaring through the sky with a giant man, my brother and a flying motor cycle seemed normal? It felt right.

We almost got hit by lightning twice. The first time, Harry and I screamed like it was the last time we would ever use our voices. Hagrid laughed so loud, almost as loud as the thunder. The second time we laughed just as hard. It was absolutely thrilling.

My stomach blessed whatever higher powers were out there that we soon flew overhead of what looked like the heart of London, and touched back to the ground in an wet unpopulated alleyway shortly after.

“‘Ere we are!” Hagrid grinned. “How was yer first time flyin’?”

“Amazing! When can we do it again?” Harry jumped with excitement when he jumped out of the cart. The rain had turned to a soft drizzle, enough for us to be fine without Hagrid coat.

“You’ll have plenty o’ time fer flyin’ when you get to Hogwarts! You’ll even get to try a broom on fer size!” Hagrid said.

“Ughhh.” I groaned as my stomach continued its flip flopping. “Is flying mandatory?”

Harry just giggled at me and Hagrid smiled as he tucked the motorcycle against the alleys wall.

“C’mon yous two!” Hagrid called as he began walking from the long passageway. “It’s late and we should get you a bed!”

He took us around to a grubby little pub with a squeaky wooden sign swinging in front. It had ‘Leaky Cauldron’ written across it in in faded letters. If Hagrid hadn’t stopped in front of it, I wouldn’t have even noticed it. 

“It’s quite the famous place, ye’see.” Hagrid explained as he opened the door and steered us inside. 

For a famous place, it was very dark and shabby. There was long tables scattered about, big kegs behind a bar that was managed by a scruffy bartender. What surprised me was the sight of dishes washing the self in a nearby sing basin, cups of ale floating across the room, brooms sweeping themselves across the floor. This was definitely magic. 

There were few people inside, and the ones that were had either passed out from a drink, or were too busy with their own lives to realize more people had come in from the stormy night. 

The bartender seemed to know Hagrid; he waved and smiled at him, reaching for a glass, saying, "The usual, Hagrid?"

"Can't, Tom, I'm on Hogwarts business," said Hagrid, clapping one great hand on Harry's shoulder and the other on mine. I almost collapsed under its weight and Harry's knees buckled.

"Good Lord," said the bartender, peering at my brother and me, "is this... can this be...?"

The man looked as if he had seen a leprechaun and had been given a pot of gold. 

"Bless my soul," whispered the old bartender, "Violet and Harry Potter... what an honor." He hurried out from behind the bar, rushed toward us, seizing my hand in a rapid handshake, followed by my brother with tears adorning his eyes.

"Welcome back, Ms. Potter. Mr. Potter, welcome back." He muttered in excitement.

I stared at him in confusion. What was going on? We’re Harry and I really that famous? It couldn’t be because we survived Voldemort, was it? We had just been children.

Hagrid was beaming proudly and patted me on the back. “Ye best get used to it, tomorrow is sure to bring more and more people. I told yahs, the wizarding world is in awe by all you’ve done.”

Harry and I shared a look. We both felt as if we had done absolutely nothing.

The barkeep, Tom, looked like he had a million questions for us, but Hagrid cleared his throat and pulled some funny looking money from his pocket. “Its gettin’ late for these kiddos to be up.” Hagrid said, and as if to prove his point, Harry yawned and then looked sheepish. Hagrid laughed, “I’ll be needin’ to buy a room fer them.”

I looked up at Hagrid with wide eyes. “But we have no money to pay you back with.” In fact, I realized we had absolutely no money at all. How were we supposed to buy all their school supplies?

Hagrid chuckled as if I had said something ridiculous.. “Don’t be worryin’ yer pretty little face over that. Its on me tonight, ‘n tomorrow we’ll be gettin’ you everything yous need, no problem.”

I wasn’t sure what that meant but I had the feeling Hagrid would never steer me wrong. So I just nodded and let the giant man pay for a room. 

“Of course!” The barkeep squeaked, excited that The Potter Twins we staying in his pub. “I’ll take you right up to your rooms!’

“What about you Hagrid?” Harry asked.

“I’ll be fine down ‘ere. I’m much too big fer the beds here.” He laughed and pat Harry’s head. 

So off we went, me behind my brother up the stairs to the room. Tom opened it up for us, absolutely jittering with excitement. “Have a good night!” He grinned and waved before closing the door behind us.

The room was just as shabby looking as the rest of the Leaky Cauldron, but it was the first hotel room Harry or I had ever been in, much less on our own, so it was fascinating. 

There were two shabby single beds in the room covered in what looked like Old Ms. Fig’s table cloth, but it looked warm, and when i shucked off my overalls and crawled underneath, I was pleasantly surprised to find I was correct. I rolled over and looked to the other bed Harry had settled in and grinned at him.

“This is insane.” I whispered.

“Absolutely.” He whispered back.

We both burst out laughing. Maybe because it felt so good to finally laugh after being confined from doing so in the Dursley household, definitely because the picture of Dudley with a pig tail was hilarious, and because today was our birthday and everything was finally changing. For the better.

“Happy Birthday Harry.” I yawned and curled under the blankets more, my windswept braids with strands sticking out were splayed across the pillow.

“Happy Birthday Violet.” Harry said back happily.

The two of us fell asleep smiling to each other that night. We dreamt the most fantastical dreams of flying through the sky, curly pig tails, magic umbrellas and giant men.

 


	5. Book One: Chapter Four

**Book One - Chapter Four: Violet Potter and Diagon Alley**

I woke up the next morning to the soft warmth of sun on my face, something I had never felt before in the mornings when I woke up next to Harry in our cupboard. My eyes snapped open and I shot up in my bed.

My surroundings were unfamiliar. This wasn’t my cupboard.

I rubbed my eyes and then turned to see Harry fast asleep on the floor, seemingly having rolled out of his own single bed in the night.

Where were we?

That’s when the memories of last night drifted back to me; the secluded shack on the murder island, the door being thrown in, a giant man named Hagrid with enough strength to bend a rifle, flying through the stormy night on a motorcycle, the Leaky Cauldron… And most importantly, Harry and I were wizards. I had swore it was all a dream, because nothing fantastic every happened to those who lived in Privet Drive, especially those who lived with the Dursleys.

I felt my stomach sink a little. If this was all true, if it wasn’t a dream, that also meant our parents were still dead, murdered by a deadly wizard named Voldemort. A dark man who could still be out there in the world… Someone who could harm Harry. Or me.

I slid from bed and tip toed carefully over Harry, so not to wake him. Once I was at the door I slowly opened it just a crack and peeked out, eyes widening when I saw a vacuum and duster working their way down the hall on their own. I shut the door quickly and leaned against it, a giggle wiggling up my throat.

It was real. It was all real, and despite the terrible things that had happened to our family, I somehow felt like things would be alright for once… That Harry and I were _finally_ where we belonged.

I skittered over to Harry and shook him awake. “Harry, c’mon!” I grinned as I continued to shake him. He groaned and opened his eyes.

“Violet?” He mumbled. “Where are we?”

I laughed at his dopey face. “The Leaky Cauldron, remember?”

He blinked once. Twice. And then, just like me, shot straight off the floor.

“It wasn’t a dream!” He looked bewildered.

“I thought so too, but if we’re both here, it has to be real.” I smiled.

“So that means…” Harry whispered.

“You’re a wizard.” I confirmed, “And I’m a witch.”

Be both burst out laughing, joy filling the room.

“This is amazing. I really can’t believe it.” Harry sighed happily.

I grinned and crossed my arms. “Well believe it, because I’d much rather be here living out a fantasy then with the Dursleys.”

Harry gave a shutter at the very thought of being in our drab cupboard, living with our terrible Aunt, Uncle and … Dudley.

“Anywheres better then there.” Harry agreed.

I walked over and snatched up my overalls, sliding them onto my legs. “Alright! Time to get ready and see the world, little brother.”

Harry snorted, “Only by ten minutes!” He yelled but ran over to his own clothing too.

He helped me rebraid my long black tresses of hair, and then slipped on his own glasses and we were ready to go.

The Leaky Cauldron was bustling with many more people then the night before. There were men and women of all heights and sizes wearing robes of every colour. Dishes floated around the room every which way, serving themselves to the customers. The smell of coffee, bacon, beans and toast hit me like a brick wall and my stomach growled desperately.

“Aye there!” Called a deep mans voice and I spotted Hagrid waving Harry and I down from the crowd. We quickly scuttled over to where he was sitting, a table covered in breakfast delicacies. “Though ye twos might want something to munch on. Those Dursleys look like they ate most of your food after all.”

“Hagrid, you're a life saver!” I cried happily and quickly sat down.

Hagrid grinned, “Help yourself!”

I did just that. Juicy sausages, fluffy omelettes, tangy beans, buttered golden toast and so much more found themselves being shoveled into my mouth. Truth was, I could probably eat most people out of house and home. I had a giant appetite, but most wouldn’t know considering how little the Dursleys gave us to eat.

Harry sat down beside me and began to dig in as well, though he steered clear of my hungry grasp, knowing I was like a feral beast when it came to food. He didn’t want to get bit.

“Holy hippogriffs!” Hagrid laughed, “Quite the appetite on this one!”

“She’s like a black hole for food.” Harry informed, and I made a grunting noise as I funneled a pancake covered in blueberry syrup down my throat.

Suddenly we were not alone though, and Tom the barkeep from last night practically skipped up to the table. He looked at my full cheeks, looking like a chipmunk, and gleamed at me with starry eyes.

“Is the food to your satisfaction?” He asked.

Hagrid laughed, “Just looking at her will tell ya’ the answer.”

I tried to smile through the food.

“Of course! All on the house too! Anything for Ms. Violet Potter and Mr. Harry Potter.” He squeaked.

Suddenly, the room went quiet. Every person inside had dropped what they were doin in favour of staring down Harry and I. With a blink of the eye, men and women all jumped from their seats and made a mad dash to our table, crowding around us to get a look.

Soon enough Harry and I were being tossed around from Wizard to Witch, shaking hands and saying hellos.

“Welcome back Miss Potter! Such an inspiring story!” One man gasped as he shook my hand. I tried my best to respond graciously, but it sounded like hogwash with my mouth full of pancake.

“I’m so proud, Miss Potter! And to think, a woman stood up against He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named!” An older woman with a purple cloak and crooked hat giggled as she patted me on the shoulder.

I had finally swallowed enough of my food to say thank you.

“Violet Potter! In the flesh!” A man grinned at me, “Why, I never though I would see the day!”

I looked over at Harry, and he was receiving the same treatment as I was, hands being shaken, being told how grateful people were for what we had done… But really, we hadn’t done anything at all.

From the crowd, a younger looking man with very pale skin, twitching beady eyes, a turban wrapped around his head and a nervous look about him stepped forward.

  
“Professor Quirrell!" said Hagrid. "Violet, Harry, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts."

"M-Mister and M-M-Misses P-P-Potter," stammered Professor Quirrell, sounding like a broken record that was painful to listen to, "c-can't t-tell you how p- pleased I am to meet you."

"What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?" Harry asked curiously.

"D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts," muttered Professor Quirrell, as though he'd rather not think about it. "N-not that you n-need it, eh, P-P-Potter?" He laughed nervously. "You'll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself." He looked terrified at the very thought.

“Vampires?” I raised my brows. I supposed those were real too then. Then again, if witches and wizards were real, then why couldn’t vampires be out there too? The world suddenly seemed much more exciting, and much more dangerous.

Professor Quirrell turned to me, “N-N-Nasty b-bite to th-th-them.” But then he was not just staring at me, but looking specifically at my forehead, at the scar cut into my skin. I reached up and covered it self-consciously. It was rather ugly.

“S-S-Sorry!” He squeaked. “I-I-Its n-not every d-day I s-see someone so f-f-famous!”

“Its okay. I’m used to it.” I said, telling the truth. Harry was able to hide his scar beneath his bangs, so he didn’t often get teased about it. My scar, on the other hand, was very blatantly obvious. Harry and I had tried everything to cover up the scar from stealing Aunt Petunia’s cover up which was a few shades too dark for my skin, to styling my hair in a particular fashion. No matter what we did though, always looked worse then if I just left the scar alone. I tried to have thick skin about it.

Luckily Professor Quirell didn’t stay much longer, whisking off to go and find his books, though he did give us one last shaky goodbye.

Ten minutes later, Hagrid was pulling us from the crowd of intrigued fans, much to their dismay. “Must get on, lots tuh buy. C’mon then.”

Once we were free from earshot, Hagrid grinned at us. “Told yehs, didn’t I? Told yehs you were famous. Even Professor Quirell was tremblin’ tuh meet yeh. Mind you, he’s usually tremblin’.”

We stopped out back of the Leaky Cauldron, trapped inside a small alcove of brick walls. We were lucky Harry and I were small, otherwise Hagrid wouldn’t have possibly fit in there with both of us.

“Is he always that nervous?” Harry asked.

“Oh, yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studyin' outta books but then he took a year off tuh get some firsthand experience.... They say he met vampires in the Black Forest, and there was a nasty bit o' trouble with a hag, never been the same since. Scared of the students, scared of his own subject. Now, where's me umbrella?"

Harry and I looked at each other with raised eyebrows. “Hag?” I mouthed. Had he gone and met Aunt Petunia? Harry giggled at the same thought.

“Three up... two across he muttered. "Right, stand back, you two."

He tapped the wall three times with the point of his umbrella. The brick he had touched quivered, more like wriggled, and in the middle, a small hole appeared. The hole grew wider and wider, a second later they were facing an archway large enough even for Hagrid to fit through; an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.

"Welcome," said Hagrid, "to Diagon Alley."

He grinned at our amazement. Together, we stepped through the archway. Harry and I looked quickly over our shoulders and saw the archway shrink instantly back into solid wall.

Before us, the sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. ‘Cauldrons: All Sizes - Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver, Self-Stirring, Collapsible’, said a sign hanging over them.

Nearby was a trolley selling all sorts of weird looking candies, bubbles frothing out of a little cauldron that had the sign “Finger-lickin’ Fondue”. Kids swarmed the trolley, popping bubbles, buying weird boxes of candies and lollies. I wondered what wizard candy tasted like.

Hagrid laughed at my wandering eyes, “You’ll ‘ave plenty o’ time to try all that, but first we needs to be getting yous to the bank.”

From my overall pocket I pulled out the acceptance letter he had finally gotten to Harry and I, and thumbed through the few pages. On the second page was a list of all sorts of supplies they would need for their first year. Their uniform was to consist of three sets of plain work robes, a plain pointed black hat, a pair of protective gloves and a winter coat, all of which was supposed to have our names in them.

There were course books as well, like The Standard Book Of Spells, A History of Magic, Mahigal Theory, A beginners Guide to Transfiguration, One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, Magical Drafts and Potions, Fantastic Beasts and Where to find them, and finally, The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection. My eyes gleamed at all the book titles, excitement surging inside of me at the prospect of reading them all.

Of course there was other equipment too, like cauldrons, telescopes, phials, scales and a wand.

At the bottom of the page it was also noted that students were allowed to bring an owl, cat or toad. Also written here in bold letters was the warning; PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS.

Broomsticks!? I thought, thinking back to flying over London on Hagrid’s motorcycle and my stomach did a flip. Thank goodness I didn’t need to own my own broom.

“Hagrid,” I said as I followed him down the winding street, “Do we have enough money for all of this?”

“Why of course. Yous think Lily and James Potter would go an’ leave their kids with naught?” He shook his head as if the thought was absurd. “Don’t you be worrying, lass. You’ll see soon, cuz’ here we are! Gringotts!”

We had stopped in front of a snowy, pristine, white building that towered over the other little shops in Diagon Alley. It had burnished bronze doors that had ornate writing across it, “Gringotts Wizarding Bank”. Standing beside the doors was a short man wearing a scarlet and gold uniform. He was very small, with loads of sagging skin, a long, pointy, crooked nose and beady little eyes that watched our every movement.

“A goblin,” Hagrid said quietly as we walked up the steps and into the white marble and gold embellished room. The goblin at the door bowed us through.

"Morning," said Hagrid to a free goblin. "We've come tuh take some money outta Misses and Mister Potter's safe."

"You have their key, Sir?"

"Got it here somewhere," said Hagrid, and he started emptying his pockets onto the counter, scattering a handful of moldy dog biscuits over the goblin's book of numbers. The goblin wrinkled his nose. I watched as the goblin on the right weighed a pile of rubies as big as glowing coals.

"Got it," said Hagrid at last, holding up a tiny golden key. The goblin looked at it closely.

"That seems to be in order."

"An' I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," said Hagrid importantly, throwing out his chest. "It's about the YouKnow-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."

The goblin read the letter carefully.

"Very well," he said, handing it back to Hagrid, "I will have Someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!"

Griphook was yet another goblin. Once Hagrid had crammed all the dog biscuits back inside his pockets, he, Harry and I followed Griphook toward one of the doors leading off the hall.

"What's the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen?" Harry asked, and I nodded beside him in interest.

"Can't tell yeh that," said Hagrid mysteriously. "Very secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore's trusted me. More'n my job's worth ter tell yeh that."

“But you were allowed to take us?” I asked.

“Knockin’ two birds with one stone!” Hagrid grinned.

Grip hook lead us into a passage way, what I had been expecting, I was unsure, but it hadn’t been this. It suddenly felt cold and damp as we stepped into what seemed like a caves tunnel, lit with sconces casting soft fire light through the area. In the center was a railroad track and a rail cart waiting for us. Griphook jumped in and looked at us expectantly.

We all climbed in, Hagrid with some difficulty, and then with no warning, we shot into the tunnel. It was going impossibly fast, and the air whipped at our face. The tailcart seemed like it had a mind of its own, whipping from left to right; I had to hold onto Harry in hopes he wouldn’t fly out of the cart.

The stop came just as sudden as the departure, and Harry and I were thrown forward against the wall of the cart, gasping for hair.

“Ow.” I winced. My ribs would feel that tomorrow.

Even Hagrid looked queasy as he stepped out of the cart, us following along.

Griphook walked up to the vault, and with the key Hagrid had given earlier, proceeded to unlock the door. At first nothing happened, and I wondered if it had all been a sham. Hagrid couldn’t possibly have a key that would somehow give Harry and I money… But then there was an audible click, followed by more clicks and the golden mechanisms on the front of the vault began to spin and turn, unlocking itself until the door swung open on its own.

Green smoke billowed out of the door, and as it cleared, Harry and my jaws dropped in shock at the mounds of gold coins, columns of silver, and heaps of little bronze coins.

“All for you twos.” Hagrid said with a smile on his face.

“All of this…?” I gapped.

I wondered briefly what it would be like to tell the Dursleys that Harry and I were richer then they ever would be, but then I knew if we told them about the amount of wealth we were sitting on, no magic or witch or wizard would scare them enough to go searching for it with their greedy, grubby fingers. So instead, I took silent pleasure in the fact that Harry and I had enough gold to fill a pool and swim in.

Hagrid helpedHarry and I each pile some of the gold into our little coin bags while explaining the currency. “Gold ones are Galleons. Silver is Sickles, and bronze are Knuts. Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty nine Knuts to a Sickle.”

Harry and I looked at each other in awe. How did we have so much money?

“Hagrid, how is this even possible?” I asked.

Harry nodded, “How could we possibly have so much!?”

“Well,” Hagrid said, “Lily an’ James Potter were nothing but kind. Theys saved up lotsa money for when you came to schoolin’ age. They wanted yous to have the best supplies! When they, err, passed… their wills had said none of this could be touched until you joined Hogwarts.”

“Our parents? Saved all this?” I laughed in disbelief.

“Sure did!” Hagrid grinned and walked back over to the cart. “Looks like you got enough for the year now. Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please.”

Harry and I filed back in and braced ourselves better this time, so that when we haunted to a stop in front of Vault 713, we weren’t thrown about as hard.

Oddly enough, vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole.

"Stand back," said Griphook importantly. He stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers and it simply melted away.

"If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped in there," said Griphook.

"How often do you check to see if anyone's inside?" Harry asked.

"About once every ten years," said Griphook with a rather nasty grin.

Harry and I gulped and stepped back from the door, keen on not getting sucked in to die.

Something really extraordinary had to be inside this top security vault though if such precautions were taken. And I wanted to know what it was. Harry and I leaned forward eagerly, expecting to see fabulous jewels or a magic staff, but all there was, was a grubby little package wrapped up in brown paper lying on the floor. Hagrid picked it up and tucked it deep inside his coat. Harry and I both looked like we wanted to ask, but knew better than to. This seemed too important to Hagrid.

"Come on, back in this infernal cart, and don't talk to me on the way back, it's best if I keep me mouth shut," said Hagrid.

One wild cart ride later they stood blinking in the sunlight outside Gringotts. With money in our hands, Harry and I had a world of possibilities. I desperately wanted to go to the bookstore and pick up as much as I could. Harry, on the other hand, had been ogling the broom store we had passed earlier. I didn’t get the appeal, but I made sure to swing by with him.

"Might as well get yer uniform," said Hagrid, nodding toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. “Listen, I ain’t feeling so great after all the cart rides. Mind if I let yous handle this?” He did look somewhat green in the face, so Harry and I took each other’s hands and walked inside of the store.

As soon as we walked in, we were greeted by a short, stout witch dressed in mauve, a brilliant smile on her face. “Hogwarts, dearies?” She asked, and we nodded. “Come this way, we’ll get you fitted.”

We followed her into the back room where we weren’t alone. There was another boy there with pale skin, a sharp face, white-blonde hair slicked back in a royal manor and interesting grey eyes. He stood on a footstool in black robes as measuring tapes flew about to take his size, and a second witch hemmed up the bottom.

“You first dear.” Madam Malkin smiled at me and usher me onto a stool beside the new boy.

“Hello,” said the boy, “Hogwarts too?”

I nodded, “Me and my brother.” I jerked my head towards Harry and he looked over at him.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to took at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting  
me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

I frowned, being strongly reminded of Dudley.

“Do either of you have your own broom?” He asked.

Harry and I looked at each other and shook our heads, answering at the same time, “No.”

“Play Quidditch at all?”

“No.” Said Harry and I. I wanted to ask him what Quidditch even was but he seemed like the type to laugh in my face if I said so. I didn’t quite like the vibes he was giving me.

“I do. Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No," said Harry, and I looked at him, mouthing the word ‘House?” But he just shook his head too.

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been.. imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

I looked at him with a frown. “What’s wrong with a … Hufflepuff?”

The boy snorted, “Worst house out of them all, besides Gryffindor I suppose. A bunch of irrelevant students really.”

I glared at him. What a twat.

"I say, look at that man!" said the boy suddenly, nodding toward the front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Harry and pointing at two large ice creams to show he couldn't come in.

"That's Hagrid," said Harry. "He works at Hogwarts."

"Oh," said the boy, "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?"

"He's the gamekeeper," said Harry, giving me a look. I felt like I was about to explode.

"Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of savage, lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed."

"Do you ever shut up!?” I hissed and turned to look at him. The shop went quiet and the blonde boy looked at me with shock.

“What?” He said with a sneer.

“You heard me.” I sneered back, “Or are your ears clouded with all your idiocy?”

Madam Malkin cleared her throat nervously, “You’re done dear, nows time for your brother.”

I stepped down with a huff and let Harry go next, he gave me a worried look as he passed by. I could tell he was worried that I would start a fight on our very first day of being a witch and wizard.

“You can’t talk to me like that. Wait until my father hears of this!” The boy growled.

I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t stand indignant little boys thinking they were gods perfect creation. ”I’m very scared.” I snorted, not sounding scared at all. I turned to Harry, “I can’t listen to his annoying little voice anymore, I’ll meet you outside.”

Harry gave me a nervous smile and nodded, “See you out there.”

As I turned to walk away, the boy huffed, “You really should keep your sister under control.”

A burning fire lit up inside me and I turned around to throw my most foul insults, most of which I had learned from Uncle Vernon and the television, but I was surprised to see Harry glaring at the boy.

“She’s not my possession. She can take down pompous weasels like you any day.” He said with a brave face, and I blinked in surprise, proud of my brother. The boy looked absolutely disgusted. Harry could definitely handle himself. I smiled happily and turned around, practically skipping out to find Hagrid. He handed me an ice cream cone as I sat next to him on the lip of a stone fountain nearby the store, and as soon as I took it, the ice cream turned from white to yellow-ish orange. I blinked in surprise.

Hagrid smiled at my expression, “It changes to whatever flavour your hearts been cravin’. Taste it!”

I licked the cold treat and was pleasantly surprised to find it tasted like mangos. I had only ever tasted one once before at Ms. Figs house when she said we could help ourselves to her fruit bowl. Uncle Vernon never had anything exotic in his house, but I wish he had because mangos were absolutely delicious.

“It tastes like mangos!” I laughed to Hagrid. “Thank you.”

“I’m glad you like it! Taste changes each n’ every time.” He explained. “One time, I got one that tasted like a great steak dinner!”

I gave him a grossed out look and he laughed.”It was actually better then ye’ would believe.”

“I’ll have to trust you on that.” I said as I continued to devour the cone.

“Yer brother just finishing up in ‘ere?” Hagrid asked and I nodded.

“There was this really annoying, petulant boy in there. Blonde hair, grey eyes, looked even paler then me.” I explained, “He was being rude so I may have… said a few words. Thought it best to get out before I put my foot in his mouth.”

Hagrid laughed, “a little spitfire, ye’ are. From the sounds of it though, that boy couldn’t have been anyone but Lucious Malfoy’s son, Draco. Downright worst kinda folk around.”

I agreed.

“Hagrid, he said something about houses? Something called Slytherin and Hufflepuff?” I hoped I was remembering the names correctly.

“Aye. Fergot tuh tell ye’ about those.” Hagrid chuckled and rubbed the back of his head. “The school ‘as four houses; Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. All the students’re sorted into the houses according to where they will best succeed. They each represent sumffin’ different. Gryffindor are known for their bravery and daring, Slytherin for their cunning and ambition, Hufflepuff for being humble and hard working folk, Ravenclaw for smarts and creativity.”

I looked at Hagrid, “Where would I belong?”

Hagrid scratched his head. “I couldn’t tell yuh, though you’ll find out yer first day of Hogwarts!”

“What if I get Slytherin?” I asked with a frown, “Does that mean I’m like the Malfoy boy?”

Hagrid smiled, though I could tell he’d rather I wasn’t in Slytherin, “No matter where you end up, you will still be as wonderful a witch as your mother was.”

“What house were they in?” I asked.

“Your parents? Gryffindor, but your mother in particular, had friends in every house, and most of ‘em would have welcomed ‘er with open arms.” Hagrid grinned.

We didn’t get to talk for much longer, because Harry was racing out of the clothing store with bags of clothes for he and I.

“All done are ye’?” Hagrid asked and happily took the bags from him, passing him the ice cream which turned a deep chocolate colour with raspberry and nut chunks. He nodded while taking a big bite of the ice cream with wide eyes.

“He didn’t give you any more trouble, did he?” I asked.

Harry shrugged, “Just some glaring, nothing we didn’t get from Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon.”

I snorted in laughter. “True.”

My eyes roamed down the streets of Diagon Alley and I grinned when I saw a book store called Florish and Blotts absolutely teaming with books. “Hagrid, can I go get Harry and I our school books?” I asked, and he smiled at the twinkle in my eyes.

“Think you can carry all ‘em books on yer own, can ya?” He asked and I nodded with fervour. “Alright then, ‘ave fun. Harry and I will go get your cauldrons and and scales.”

With that, I head off on my own to Florish and Blotts, practically skipping with excitement as I climbed the steps and walked in. Books were flying everywhere, off of shelves to other shelves, into customers arms, quills were scrawling on parchment of their own accord, and I was jumping with joy. I walked over to the section labelled ‘First Year’ and began to inspect every book possible, pulling out two of each required textbooks that Harry and I needed as well as some extra reading material such as Jinxes for the Jinxed and Abracadabra: An A-Z of Spooky Spells.

The books were beginning to tower in a stack within my arms, and I was having a hard time seeing around it, until I bumped into something, or rather someone, and sent all of my books and theirs scattering to the ground. I instantly dropped to the ground to pick them up.

“You should watch where you’re going, honestly.” A girls voice huffed and she dropped down beside me to pick up her own books. She had two large front teeth, warm looking eyes and bushy brown hair that looked like even a rake couldn’t tame. “Where are your parents?” She asked.

“Where are yours?” I spat back instinctively.

She sighed indignantly and flipped back her bushy hair, “My mother and father are Muggles, they couldn’t possibly come to Diagon Alley, now could they?” She stared at me for a few seconds before saying expectantly, “And yours?”

“My parents are dead.” I said, frowning.

Her face went red in embarrassment. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

I shrugged, “Its fine. Its not like you knew.”

The girl reached her hand out across the scattered floor of books, “Hermione Granger. Its not often I find someone who likes to read as much as I do.”

I took her hand with a shake. “Violet Potter.”

Hermione didn’t instantly look shocked and amazed, and I felt relieved. I suppose since she grew up in the non-magical Muggle world, she knew just about as much as I did when it came to my fame. We knelt there awkwardly, picking up our books instead until she stood up.

“Maybe I’ll see you at Hogwarts.” She huffed, trying to keep her cool. She scooped up her books and walked off, stiff as a board. She was a tad annoying, but maybe she was just as nervous as I was about the whole being a witch thing.

I just dusted myself and the books off before heading over to the check out. I found Harry and Hagrid standing outside of Olivanders, a wand store by the looks of it.

The shop was narrow and shabby, to small that Hagrid excused himself to do a bit of shopping for himself while we went in, leaving Harry and I to ourselves. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as we stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair. There were thousands of narrow boxes in rows of shelves, most covered in a thick coating of dust, as if this was a library for wands.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice came from nowhere and everywhere, making Harry and I jump. We turned to the counter to see an old man who hadn’t been there a second before, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Hello," said Harry awkwardly.

“Hi…” I also greeted, slowly.

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you two soon. Violet Potter. Harry Potter." It wasn't a question. "You both have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

Mr. Ollivander moved closer to us and the two of us really wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy.

"Your father, on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favoured it … it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

Mr. Ollivander moved closer to me, brushing a part of my hair back..

"And that's where..." Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on my forehead with a long, white finger. "I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands... well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do...."

He shook his head and then said, “Well now, Mr. Potter lets start with you. Let me see." He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"

"Err, well, I'm right-handed," said Harry.

"Hold out your arm. That's it." I watched as he measured Harry from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head. As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

He then pulled away and began pulling forth different wants, hanging them to harry before frowning and saying it wasn’t the right fit. Once, Harry got to wave his wand and accidentally shattered a vase, to which Mr. Ollivander snatched it back, mumbling, “No, no no.”

"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere… I wonder, now, yes, why not, unusual combination, holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Harry took the wand and I watched as his eyes lit up. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls. I grinned and clapped. “Harry! That’s amazing!” I grinned and he smiled back at me.

"Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well... how curious... how very curious..." He put Harry's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering, "Curious... curious..

"Sorry," said Harry, "but what's curious?"

Rather then answer him, Mr. Ollivander fixed his eyes on me. ”I wonder then, Miss Violet, if that one is meant for you…” He scrambled back between he shelves and pulled out a faded purple box before returning. He opened the box to reveal a beautiful white wand, long and straight and ornate with a smooth looking handle. It wasn’t very over the top, except for the very end of the wand that had a beautiful white gem embedded in it, shimmering beautifully. “Thirteen inches, aspen, swishy… Give it a go.” I took hold of the wand and gasped as my skin turned to goosebumps, a calm, cool feeling pouring through my body like refreshing cold water on a hot day. I looked at Mr. Ollivander and he nodded.

I swished the wand, and suddenly brilliant purple sparks came from the end of my want, and air began to whoosh around the room, tossing my braids about.

“That’s amazing, how did she do that?” Harry asked.

We looked at Mr. Ollivander and he looked at us with wide eyes. “Very curious.”

“What is?” I asked.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Miss and Mister Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, Mr. Potter, gave another feather, just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother gave you that scar."

Harry looked at me with frightened eyes and I grabbed his hand.

"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember....” He then turned to me.

“Now this wand, Miss Potter, is rather an oddity, beyond one of a kind. The very Phoenix that produced the feather for those two wands, granted a single tear, that turned into that gem.” He pointed at the end of my wand. “That tear powers your wand,, granting it abilities that even I can not comprehend.”

I looked down at the elegant white wood and gem, and then back at Mr. Ollivander.

“You must be mistaken, I can’t possibly own such an important wand…” I murmured.

“The wand chooses the wizard. There are no returns.” Mr. Ollivander said, a slight quiver of a smile on his lips. “I think we must expect great things from you, Ms. And Mr. Potter.... After all, He- Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things… terrible, yes, but great."

I could feel Harry shiver. We quickly paid seven gold Galleons each for our wands before heading out to greet Hagrid again. I wasn’t exactly sure what to take from that encounter, but I wasn’t sure if I liked Mr. Ollivander.

When Harry and I found Hagrid, we were surprised to see him holding two cages. In one, a beautiful, tall snowy white owl with brilliant golden eyes and dark specks on its white wings, and in the other a much tinier brown and white Northern Pygmy with big yellow eyes and messy ruffled feathers.

“Happy Birthday!” He called and held them up for us to see. “The snowy owl for Harry, she’s quite the beauty… and the Pygmy Owl for Violet, he’s a good fella, small guy with a big personality!”

I grinned and took his small cage into my hands and looked at him. “I’m going to name you Aether.”

All too soon it was turning to night, and we had finished all of our shopping in Diagon Alley. Much to Harry and my dismay, we were being whisked back to Privet Drive with Hagrid. He looked all too sad to say goodbye, but he handed us our owls and told us he would meet us at Kings Cross station in a week when we would board the train to Hogwarts and start our journeys as a witch and wizard.

I couldn’t be more excited. 

 


	6. Book One: Chapter Five

**Book One - Chapter Five: Violet Potter and the Train Ride**

A month after Harry and I had met Hagrid and travelled to Diagonal Alley, we were still on a high.

Witches and Wizards? Us?! It was absolutely, positively, bloody insane! Dudley would still scream when he saw us and run as far away as he could, covering his pig tail as he went. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon barely said a word to us, which was a step up from all the yelling. 

Of course there was still nights when Harry and I would lay in bed, petting our owls and we would talk about what could have been. If our parents hadn’t been murdered, or if we had been sent to some wizard or witch guardian instead. But nothing could stop us from feeling just so free. We finally understood a bit more about our heritage. More than we had known in a whole 11 years. 

It was also a lot of pressure too. I mean, we both knew basically nothing about the wizarding community, and we couldn’t do a spell to save our lives. We knew people would be expectant of us, being the twins who lived and all. We were famous and we couldn’t even remember what we were famous for. We had no memory of Voldemort, or the night our parents passed away.

To prepare us, I spent that week binge reading all of the books I had picked up. Some of the spell books were hard to comprehend, having never used a wand,so I mostly practiced the motions with a pencil, but I assumed I would be better to know the basics of a few spells before I got to Hogwarts and was allowed access to my wand. I mainly focused on A History of Magic, Magical Theory, and both potion and herbology texts. History and theory were both interesting, and I had fun explaining things to Harry, like the old witch hunts and goblin rebellion. Harry had always had a distaste for history, so he wasn’t all too interested even in this, but he did find the name for his owl, Hedwig, in those pages. I wasn’t a particular fan of herbology, the care of magical plants seemed interesting, but wasn’t exactly a page turner. All the plants looked the same after an hour of staring at pictures. Aunt Petunia had slashed my interest in any form of gardening after the multitudes of times she made me help trim all her dead plants.

It was the last day before Harry and I left for Hogwarts, that we were sitting in a nearby park, which was just as dreadfully boring as the rest of Privet Drive, I brushing up on The Standard Book Of Spells, Grade 1, and Harry was skimming through his defence against the dark arts books, showing me pictures of werewolves, zombies and hags.

Unfortunately for us, we could never be left alone. Piers Polkiss decided to grace us with his presence.

“Aye! It’s the Stupid twins!” He called to us as he walked through the park, followed by a few other boys I recognized from school that Dudley and him liked to hang out with.

“Very creative, Piers. How long did it take you to come up with that one?” I asked, and Harry snickered beside me.

Piers huffed, looking a little red in the face as he stopped in front of us. “Shut up, cootie girl. Why don’t you leave reading to the men and go home to read.”

“What did you just say?” I hissed, snapping my book closed.

Harry jumped to his feet, “You can’t talk to my sister like that.”

“Oh yeah? And what are you gunna do about it?” Piers said smugly. The words would have seemed much more intimidating coming from anyone else who was almost as scraggly as Harry and I with a serious case of rat-face.

“He’ll do to you what we did to Dudley.” I said and stood up, my book hanging at my side. Harry turned to me with wide eyes, giving a look and spoke to me through our minds, We aren’t allowed to talk about that. I gave him a smile and projected, Don’t worry I got this.

“What do you mean? What’d you do to Dudley?” Piers asked, not sure if he should believe us.

I shrugged. “Well, you haven’t seen Dudley around, have you? That’s because I cursed him.”

“Cursed him? As if.” Piers snorted, but still looked like he nervous.

I stepped forward and wiggled my fingers at him. “Would you like to find out?”

Piers stepped back, along with the other boys that were behind him. “You’re a freak Potter!”

“The correct term is witch and I can place a cootie curse on you, wanna see?” I cackled and wiggled my fingers again. I closed my eyes and hummed, “Alacazam, alacazoo, bippity boppity boo!”

Piers screamed and instantly turned and ran, not chancing whatever cootie spell I was pretending to do.

When he was well enough away, Harry looked at me.

“That wasn’t a real spell, was it?”

“Of course not, silly!” I laughed. “But he doesn’t know that.”

Harry and I chuckled together on the walk home and talked about how funny Piers would look with a matching rat tail to Dudley’s curly pig behind. I knew I probably shouldn’t have said what I did, but I knew Piers would never truly believe in such things as witches or wizards. He was just that mundane.

We returned home that evening for the last dinner with the family, which turned out to just be Harry and I in our room. Aunt Petunia couldn’t stand the sight of us after what Hagrid had done to Dudley, and would let us take food up to the room so they could eat in peace. Not that we minded.

We fed our owls some of the roast beef, and Aether ate it up like the messy boy he was, his feathers all askew. Hedwig was a gentle girl, much more well mannered then her brother was.

As we finished we talked about how nervous we both were for the next day but mostly how excited we were to start our new journey together.

* * *

 

  
The next day, bright and early in the morning, the Dursley’s dropped us off at Kings Cross Station. Luckily for us the day we left for Hogwarts coincided with the day the Dursley’s were bringing Dudley to London to have his tail surgically removed.

“We’ll make sure to send letters by owl every day!” I said as I hopped from the car with my things. Uncle Vernon’s eyes went wider then Aether’s, still traumatized from the acceptance letter fiasco.

“Don’t you dare! We don’t want to hear from you even if you’re dying!” Aunt Petunia shrieked.

“Not even a postcard?” Harry asked, batting his eyes innocently.

The door to the car slammed shut and Uncle Vernon floored the gas, speeding away from Kings Cross Station, and as far away from us disgusting brats.

“Now we just have to find Hagrid.” Harry said with a big smile, rather pleased with what transpired.

I shrugged, “How hard can it be to find a giant man?”

Not hard at all, it appeared. Hagrid stood well above the other men and women walking through the station, and even if he hadn’t, we heard his hollering from across the platforms.

“Violet! Harry! Over here!” He waved his big arms, though our attention had already been caught.

“Hagrid!” we cheered together and ran up to him. Part of me was relieved to see him, as if I needed the constant validation that yes all this was real.

“You haven’t been waiting long, have you?” Harry asked.

“Not at all. Been rather facinatin’ watchin’ all these muggles and their ordinary lives.” He grinned, and then jolted like he had remembered something. “Ah! Here yous are! All yer stuff!”

Hagrid had insisted on taking care of all the robes and cauldrons and heavier things we would be needing for Hogwarts, since keeping them in the Dursley household wasn’t really an option.

“Thank Hagrid.” I smiled and set Aether on top of the trolley that had my things, along with a bag full of books and a few pairs of clothing I had brought. Not that I had much.

“C’mon now, this way!” Hagrid guided us through the throngs of people hurrying along, parting the crowd for us with his large body. I giggled at some of the passerbys eyes grew twice as large when they spotted him.

We stopped when we walked onto the platforms. “Not sure I should be goin’ much farther with yuhs now.” Hagrid said and fished through his pockets.

“Why not?” I asked.

Hagrid smiled, “Got a busy schedule today, I do. Its first day back at Hogwarts!” He said it as if it was obvious. I just laughed and nodded.

Once he finally found what it was he was looking for in his coat of mysteries, he presented both Harry and I with slips of paper.

“What are they?” Harry asked and took his.

“Train tickets of course! Now you twos be safe an’ I’ll see you at Hogwarts!”

They looked a bit different then a normal ticket… or maybe they just felt different? I looked at the ticket and read the platform: 9 1/3. I frowned and looked at Harry who was wearing a similar face of confusion.

“Hagrid there’s no such thing as a platform nine and-“ I looked up, but the man was gone. “Blimey, Harry!”

Harry and I looked around with wide eyes. Where had he gone?

“How odd…” I mumbled.

“We don’t have much time to wonder, Vi! Lookit the time on our tickets!”

I looked.

Or read 10am on the thin ticket. I then looked at the clock. 9:37am.

I gasped, “Oh shoot!”

And with that, the two of us ran down the platforms as quick as we could with hulking carts and suitcases full of books and cloaks and other magical doo-dads.

Luckily for us the station wasn’t as busy as we had expected it to be, so the two of us were able to weave through the small throngs of people in search for our mysterious platform… Alas, no matter how hard we tried there was no such thing as a Platform 9 and 3/4. There was a 9. There was a 10… But if there was something in between that? Well, I was too blind to see it.

“Excuse me sir.” Harry asked to a Platform Attendant nearby.

The man looked at the two of us, our odd assortment of luggage and owls and then gave a gruff huff. “Where’re your parents?”

Harry didn’t even bother answering. It was a question we got far too often. “Could you tell me where Platform 9 and 3/4 may be?”

The man rubbed his bulbous red nose and scratched his salt and pepper moustache in confusion as if my brother had been spouting nonsense. Apparently he was, because the man replied, “9 and 3/4? There’s no such thing. Now where are you parents boy?” He looked like he was going to call for someone any second, so I ran up and quickly ushered him away.

“Theres no platform 9 and 3/4?” Harry sighed and looked at me in disbelief. “I’m not reading the ticket wrong, am I?”

I shook my head. “No. Mine says the same. Maybe we’re at the wrong Station..?”

Before the panic could set in, there was a spry voice amongst the crowd. “This way now, hurry, hurry! Platform 9 and 3/4 right this way dears!”

Our heads snapped in the direction of the voice instantaneously and spotted a group of people that all stood out rather well. Maybe it was their mish-mash of suitcases like Harry and mine, or the insanely bright red hair, or the fuzzy wool sweaters of bright colours that just seemed so out of place amongst the mundane station but… Harry and I instantly knew these were our people. Wizards.

The woman leading the pack was much older then the rest, obviously a mother. She was plump, but not in an unhealthy Vernon Dursley sort of manner, rather it was heartwarming and reminded me of what home should feel like. Behind her were five children; one with curly hair, a pair of identical twins (much to Harry and my surprise), another boy that looked to be our age but taller and knobbier then most, and a younger girl.

The mother rushed them right by us while practically chanting, “Right this way. C’mon now, c’mon now. Rush, rush, rush.”

I shared a look with Harry and shrugged. This was the only lead we had. So we took off rush, rush, rushing after them.

“Excuse me!” Harry called as we ran after them.

The woman slowed in her jog and looked back at my brother. “Yes dear?”

“Humm… You wouldn’t mind showing us the way to the Platform 9 and 3/4 would you?” Harry asked with uncertainty.

The woman looked Harry up and down and then turned to me, scanning the two of us. Her eyes seemed to widen the more her eyes roamed. They peered across our hair, our green eyes and finally landed on the scar on my forehead, which I quickly covered up. I hadn’t normally been so embarrassed about it in the muggle world but… Our scars meant something different here.

“It couldn’t be… Are you…” She whispered, and her halt seemed to draw the attention of all her children. They stood behind her and peered at them as well.

Harry didn’t seem to notice, or didn’t care because he held out his hand, “Harry Potter, and this is my sister Violet.”

At the mention of their names, the little girl of the group gasped, eyes widening to the size of the moon. She was particularly entranced by Harry. The eldest boy with the curling red hair didn’t say anything but looked curious. The twins leaned in to each other and whispered, “Wicked” and gave each other a high five.

The boy closest to Harry and my age piped up, “Potter!? As in the famous Potters! The one who fought Lord-“

“Ronald Weasley!” The mother quipped and nudged her boy, “Don’t be rude.”

The boy, Ronald it seemed, soured slightly, but continued to stare at the two of us nevertheless.

“Sorry dears, I don’t mean to be rude, its just…” She whispered, “You look so much like your parents.”

“You knew them!?” Harry asked instantly. It wasn’t every day we found people who knew our parents.

“Why of course… From long, long ago it seems,” The woman smiled fondly, like nostalgia was washing over her.

I lowered my hand from my scar and stepped forward some, “Sorry Ma’am… We didn’t catch your names…”

The woman blinked and then burst out laughing, placing a hand to her chest, “Oh yes! Where are my manners! I am Molly Weasley, and these are my children. Our youngest, Ginny,” She pointed to the young girl who was still transfixed on Harry, “This is Percy,” The oldest looking one with the curly hair simply nodded his greeting, “The twins, Fred and George,” She pointed to each of them and they rolled there eyes, “I’m Fred, hes George,” One of them said. Molly just huffed and finally reached for her last child, the one our age. “This is Ronald.”

“Just Ron is fine,” Said Ron, looking rather embarrassed.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” I said, and though I meant it, I couldn’t help but stare back at the odd family.

“So you knew out parents,” Harry badgered again, desperate for information.

Molly grinned and nodded, “Lily and James! Quite the pair those two! We never thought they would end up together, you know. Your mother had never been the fondest of James, but alas, he swooped in and-“

“Mother,” the boy, Percy, interjected, “The time.”

Molly looked back to her son and then up at a clock, “Oh goodness! You’re right, we haven’t much time.” She looked to Harry and I, “Sorry dears, I’ll be sure to tell you more when we have the time, but we must hurry! You have a train to catch! Come along, I assume you might be confused, we can show you the way!”

With that, she began to rush off again, her kids following after, the twin boys snickering at their mother.

Harry looked at me with disappointment.

Don’t worry, she said she can tell us more later! Besides, we are off to Wizarding School! There’s no reason to be upset today! I whispered to him in our minds. A bright smile blossomed on Harry’s face and I knew that had cheered him up.

With that, we pushed our trolleys off with the red haired family leading us.

“Sorry about my mum,” Ron whispered to them as they caught up to them. He seemed embarrassed by her exuberance.

“No need to be sorry,” I whispered back and smiled at him. His cheeks turned as red as his hair.

“Here we are!” Molly hollered to the group.

We stood where we had before, between platforms nine and ten. No platform 9 and 3/4 in sight.

“I’m sorry Ma’am but… Where is here?” I asked, “I don’t see a platform 9 and 3/4 anywhere.”

She gave me a small chuckle, like she was looking at a newborn fawn falling all over its two feet.

“Best to show you, dear,” She said, “Percy, you first.”

The curly haired boy nodded, and with his trolly in hand, began running right at the barrier between the platforms. Harry and I looked at him with wide eyes, about to witness this boy crash into the stone wall before… he vanished.

“What!?” Harry and I gasped at the same time.

“They talk at the same time too,” One of the twins laughed.

“Wicked,” Said the other one.

“Fred, you next,” Molly said to the first one.

“”I’m not Fred, I’m George,” Said the boy, “Honestly woman, you call yourself our mother? Can’t you tell I’m George?”

“Sorry, George, dear,” Molly sighed.

“Only joking, mum, I am Fred!” Fred laughed and raced off to the platform, George following suit with howling laughter. Molly looked like she was about to throw her shoe at them, but just like before, they vanished from view.

“You see?” Molly asked the two of us.

“We saw,” Harry said.

“But where did they go?” I asked.

“Platform 9 and 3/4 of course,” She said, “All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don’t stop and don’t be scared you’ll crash into it, that’s very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous.”

I looked at Harry, he looked at me.

“I’ll go first?” He asked, and I wanted to say no in case he did vanish and something happened to him but… I saw the look of excitement in his eyes. So I nodded.

“There you go, dear,” Ms. Weasley ushered Harry forward into place. He looked back at me with a meek smile, waited for all the people to clear his path before he ran.

He got closer and closer. He was most definitely going to crash into the wall. But then he didn’t.

And he was gone. Without me.

Without a second thought, I booked it after where I saw him go, pushing my trolley as hard as my small arms could manage. Aether hooted at the sudden jolt. Closer, closer and then…

All around me were people, much busier then Kings Cross had been before. I looked back, and around and realized I wasn’t at Kings Cross at all… Or at least, not any place I had seen before. There was people of all kinds wearing mixes of normal clothes and fancy school robes. And Harry, standing amongst them looking around in awe. I pushed my cart up next to him and let out an amazed breath.

“Wow,” I said.

“Wow,” he agreed.

Behind us was the sound of squeaky trolley wheels, and Ron and his Mother and little sister appeared beside us.

“Fred! George!” She hollered to the twin boys who were storing their items in the train, they looked over, “Help Harry and Violet with their things!”

“Yes mum!” They called back in unison and ran over to grab our trunks.

“Got any weird Muggle things in here?” Fred, or was it George, asked me as he grabbed my suitcase.

“Weird muggle things?” I asked.

“Yeah like those weird plastic things of all colours, with the button,” Said one,=.

“When you press it, fire some out,” Said the other.

“A lighter?” I asked after a moment of confusion. Did they not have those in the wizarding world? “Why would you want one?”

The two of them chuckled deviously, and I regretted asking,.

“Fred, George, now please!” Ms. Weasley said.

“We’ll talk later,” The twins said in unison with devilish smirks before walking off to stuff Harry and I’s things away in a compartment. I made sure to grab Aether’s cage. He shrieked as I did.

Harry and I stood next to each other, soaking everything in, and watching as the Weasley family all converged again to say their goodbyes. Ms. Weasley doted on Ron, wiping a smudge on his nose, to which the twins endlessly teased him, much to Rons dismay. Percy stopped by briefly to say goodbye before heading off to whatever-the-heck a prefects compartment was. Ms. Weasley turned to the twins then, warning them that she better not hear of any shenanigans from them, like blowing up a toilet, to which the twins grinned and thanked her for the idea. They each gave her a kiss on the cheek before running to board the train and avoiding her annoyed swatting.

Part of me felt happy watching such a scene, another part felt sad. That was something Harry and I would never have. He must have been feeling the same because he reached over with his free hand and grabbed mine.

At least we had each other.

A whistle blew and kids began to swarm around the train, pushing into it. Ron got three more kisses before he was dismissed by his mother, and Harry and I got a wave and big toothy smile from her as we pushed our way into the bustling train carriage.

Most of the carriage compartments were getting full, but the three of us; Harry, Ron and I, found solace in one of the only empty ones left. We set Hedwig and Aether next to one another on the seat before rushing to the window with Ron. Ms. Weasley was there, waving and smiling, while the young girl beside her, Ginny, began to sniffle.

“Don’t cry Ginny,” I heard one of the twins yell from the window of the compartment beside ours, “We’ll send you loads of owls.”

“We’ll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat!”

“George!”

“Only joking mum.”

The train began to move then, leaving the station. We all watched as Ms. Weasley waved her sons goodbye with their little sister, until they disappeared from sight all together.

Harry, Ron and I all sat down once there was no chance we would see them any longer and an awkward silence ensued before Ron blurted out,

“Are you really Harry and Violet Potter!?”

Harry looked at me, I looked at him, we looked back at Ron. We nodded.

“Freaky,” Ron whispered, but not in a rude way, he looked rather amazed actually. He pointed to my scar and looked at Harry, “You have one of- one of those too, right?”

Harry lifted his bangs to show his matching scar.

“Blimey! So that’s where You-Know-Who-“

“Yes,” Harry interjected, “But we cant remember it.”

“Nothing?” Ron asked eagerly.

“At all,” I agreed. Of course it wasn’t completely the truth… I remembered an odd sort of light but it was nothing I could explain.

“Wow,” Ron said, staring at the two of us in silence for a few moments before seemingly realizing what he was doing and turned to look out the window instead.

“Are all your family wizards?” Harry asked.

Ron shrugged, “Err, I think so? I think Mum’s got a cousin who’s an accountant but we never talk about him.”

“I wouldn’t want to either, accountants are dreadfully boring,” I said. Uncle Vernon had a few friends of accountants. They never seemed pleasant.

“So you must know loads of magic then?” Harry continued.

Ron shrugged, “Cant practice much outside of school, illegal and all, but I guess I would know more then you two. You lived with muggles? What were they like?”

“Awful,” We said in unison, and then laughed at one another.

“Well, not all of them,” Harry said, and I nodded.

“Our aunt and uncle were though,” I agreed.

“And don’t get us started on cousin Dudley,” Harry practically groaned.

“At least you don’t have five brothers,” Ron sighed.

“Five?” I asked, “We only saw three!”

“Five,” Ron nodded, looking rather gloomy, “I’m the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. ”You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left. Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

Ron reached into his jacket and procured a fat grey rat, which made odd noises as it slept.

“We always had to wear our cousin Dudley’s old clothes too,” I said, in hopes of cheering him up.

Harry nodded and looked down at his oversized pants held together by an old battered belt, “I think he wore these when he was five. He’s a big oaf.”

This had Ron giggling, and Harry and I smiled at him.

“Did they know about your being a wizard an’ witch?” Ron asked.

I nodded, “They did.”

Harry frowned, “But we didn’t. They told us our parents died in a car crash. Until Hagrid told us, we didn’t know anything about being magical or about our parents or Voldemort.”

Ron gasped.

“What?” I asked. Had he said something wrong? Didn’t seem like it to me.

“You said You-Know-Who’s name!” Said Ron, sounding both shocked and impressed, “I’d thought you of all people…”

“I’m not trying to be brave or anything, saying the name,” Said Harry, “I just never knew you shouldn’t.”

“Besides,” I said, “Not saying Voldemort only makes him seem more scary.”

Ron’s eyes were wide with astounded glee at the both of us, “But he is scary! The stories I’ve heard from my brothers..” Ron seemed to shiver at the thought, “And even Fred and George were telling the truth.”

“He just feels like a fairytale honestly,” I said and shrugged. Yeah, we had been told about him and the horrible things he had done to our parents but… It seemed surreal. All of this did.

“We’ve got loads to learn though,” said Harry. “I bet that I’ll be worst in class. Violet loves reading, so at least she has that but I know next to nothing!”

Ron shook his head, “There’s loads of people who come from Muggle families and they learn quick enough.”

The train carried us off from London, over roving fields of livestock and farmland. We discussed everything from Muggle school to Wizarding games like gobstones and exploding snap. It was about this time that an older woman opened their compartment door with a matronly grin and a cart full some sweet smelling snacks.

“Anything off the trolley dears?” She asked.

Harry and I looked at each other with a grin and instantly grabbed coins from our cloaks. We got one of everything there was; Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans, Brooble’s Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Caulron Cakes, Licorice wands, and even more oddities for them to try. And it only cost them eleven silver Sickles and seven bronze Knuts.

We dumped it onto the seat between ourselves and looked over at Ron.

“Are you hungry?” Harry asked Ron.

Ron shrugged, “I’m alright… I mean, I could eat but-“

“Well what are you waiting for!” I laughed and threw him a package of cakes.

We ate to our hearts content. Ron taught us about Chocolate Frogs and their charmed nature, and how Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans could really be any flavour. I got a nice lemon, right before a lawn clippings. After my stomach was satisfied, my mind was still starving for more information.

By then, Harry and Ron were talking about some kind of Wizard sport that involved flying, which instantly made me want to hurl up all my snacks, so I instead excused myself from the compartment and went off on my own adventure.

Everywhere I looked there was something fascinating. In one compartment I saw kids shooting sparks out of wands. In another I spotted Ron’s twin brothers playing with another kids giant tarantula. I even spotted the blonde boy from Madam Malkins surrounded by other kids our age that seemed to be fawning over him. I rolled my eyes and kept going.

I was on my way back to see Harry and Ron when a compartment to my left shot open and a girl came stomping out, almost running into me. I jumped back in surprise and was about to tell the person to watch it when I realized I recognized the face.

It was the same face I had run into in the book store. The girl with the bushy hair and big teeth.

“Hermmm-“ I hummed, trying to recall the girls name.

“Hermione,” The girl interjected.

“Right! Hermione!” I grinned, “We have to stop meeting each other like this.”

She huffed, but seemed to lighten up a little from her pouting a little.

“You’re Violet right?” Hermione asked.

I nodded, “Sure am. What has you all riled up today?”

Hermione crossed her arms, looking rather displeased, “I was trying to help a boy find his lost toad but no one has been very helpful.”

I blinked and scratched my head. I swore I had heard some kind of croaking from one of the storage compartments on my way by. I relayed this to her.

“Really!?” She seemed to brighten up, “Neville will be glad to hear!”

“Neville?” I asked.

“The toads owner,” She replied.

As if on cue, a round faced boy with dark hair came jogging up the train, his face red as he panted.

“Neville,” Hermione called, “We found your toad.”

More like I found your toad, but alright. I thought to myself.

“Really?” The boy asked, his voice shaking like he was going to cry of relief. “Where is he?”

“This way,” I said and began to lead them to where I had heard the croaking.

Sure enough, when we popped the storage compartment open, there was a fat toad sitting on a suitcase, looking out the window and croaking.

“Trevor!” Neville cried happily and ran forward to scoop him up in his hands. When he returned to the hallway, he was blubbering happily. “Thank you, err, what w-was your name?

I smiled and went to reach my hand out for a shake, but thought better of it, “I’m Violet.”

“V-Violet?” Neville stuttered, suddenly looking nervous.

“Violet Potter.” I said, curious to his reaction.

“Potter!?” He practically yelped.

Suddenly the train hall went quiet, all chattering dying out by the exclamation of that one word. Everywhere I looked all the eyes of the nearby socializing kids were on me, scanning me over, looking at my scar. I covered it with one hand and looked back to Hermione and Neville in discomfort.

“S-Sorry,” Neville whispered.

Before I could say anything in return, a compartment door slid out and a bunch of kids around my age flooded into the trains hallway. Leading the pack was none other then the blonde headed kid who I had met in Diagon Alley. His blue grey eyes glittered curiously.

“Did I hear Violet Potter? The Violet Potter?” He asked as he came out. “She will have to meet me, of course.”

I frowned at his snobbish attitude and crossed my arms.

“You already did,” I called.

Draco, I recalled the boy being called, looked over at me and blinked for but a moment before recognition washed over his face. “You? You’re Violet Potter?”

“Who else would I be?”

His face clouded with a mix of emotions; confusion, something akin to shock, followed by annoyance, and finally a perfected smirk.

“Violet Potter,” He said, stalking forward. The two large boys on either side of him moved forward as well, and she was pretty sure Neville stepped back to hide behind her, though she was much smaller then him.

“I suppose we got off on the wrong foot. Allow me to apologize,” Draco said and raised his hand to shake, “I’m Draco Malfoy. It would be in your best interest to befriend me. I can show you the right sort of people to be around.”

Draco looked at Hermione and Neville with disgust, and though I had only really just met Neville, and barely knew Hermione, I didn’t like the way he treated them.

“And it would be in your best interest to remove your hand from my face before I break it,” I frowned, and smacked his hand away from me. I heard a few gasps from Draco’s posse.

The look of annoyance was back on his face and he pulled his hand back.

“We’ll see how you feel when you’ve been sorted. My father says the Potter children are destined to be Slytherins, and when you are, you’ll see it my way.” He smirked at me.

“Even if I am, I would never hang around you,” I huffed, “I don’t like bullies.”

He rolled his eyes and shrugged, as if he was right and I was wrong. He excused himself and went back into his train compartment with his gang, leaving me with Hermione and Neville, and even more staring kids. Some had began to peek their heads out of their compartments.

“Shouldn’t you be getting changed! We’ll be arriving soon!” Hermione called at them with a tone some might call incessant, an air of authority to her.

The people in the hall all frowned, but immediately began to go about their own ways. The people peeking out of the compartments went back in, and those who had been in the hall all scattered off while whispering to each other.

“Thanks,” I sighed, grateful for the girl. She was slightly annoying, but in a good way, she supposed.

“Y-You stood up to Draco M-Malfoy,” Neville whispered in amazement.

“Yeah? So?” I asked. It wasn’t unordinary, I stood up to Piers and Dudley all the time. I often got shoved into the dirt for it, but I did it nevertheless.

“He’s from a pure blood f-family… Lots of money and power… I-I heard he can make your life a living h-hell if you make him angry,” He explained, “His father is scarier…”

“No, hes just an obnoxious boy. There’s nothing he can do to me that can scare me,” I said in a huff.

Hermione nodded, “I agree! And if he ever did anything, you could just tell a teacher!”

“Right…” I nodded, though that’s not at all what I had been thinking.

“Well,” Hermione nodded matter-of-factory, “With your toad found, I better go make sure everyone else is behaving and prepared for our arrival. I’ll see you at Hogwarts, best of luck.”

With that, the girl walked off, informing the students that they better get dressed or yelling at students who were running up and down the train halls..

“Was she told to do that?” I asked with raised brows.

Neville looked at me with a tired expression, “She volunteered herself.”

“Right.” I nodded.

We parted ways, and I was happy to find myself back in my compartment with Harry and Ron, who were trying to feed Aether a Bertie Bott’s every flavour bean.

“Hey!” I flicked Harry in the forehead, sending him recoiling back, holding his head. “Don’t feed my bird that! It could taste like chicken for all I know!”

Ron seemed amused by that thought, “A bird eating bird!”

Harry finished rubbing his forehead and sat back, “Where did you go off to.”

“Exploring,” I shrugged, “Met some people, Hermione and some boy named Neville. We found his lost toad.”

“Oh, them? They came by a little while ago,” Ron said and rubbed his nose that still had a spot of dirt on it.

“Glad they found the toad,” Harry said.

I chuckled, “It’s name was Trevor.”

“Trevor the toad? Magnificent,” Harry smiled.

I sat down and sighed, “Ron, what can you tell me about Slytherin?”

“Slytherin? Why?” He asked.

“I met a boy, Draco,” I said and Harry’s eyes sparked with recognition of the name, “He said he would be in Slytherin.”

“Draco Malfoy right? I’ve heard of him. His family were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared, Said they’d been bewitched. His father works for the Hogwarts Board of Govenors,” Ron explained, “It pretty much means he can get away with anything and daddy can bail him out. I’m pretty sue his whole family were Slytherins.”

“You didn’t fight with him did you?” Harry asked.

I frowned and spoke hesitantly, “I mean, we didn’t fight…”

“What did you do?”

“I may have threaded to break his hand,” I practically squeaked.

Ron burst out laughing, “Bloody brilliant! Wish I had seen the look on his face!”

Harry looked worried, but Ron’s laughter was infectious, and soon all of us were making funny faces pretending to be Draco Malfoy.

“Anyways,” I laughed, “Tell me about Slytherins.”

Ron cleared his throat and grimaced at the very thought, “It’s the house You-Know-Who was in.”

My stomach sank.

“Draco told me his dad said that Harry and I are destined to be in Slytherin,” I said.

Ron frowned, “You don’t seem like Slytherins…”

“Even if we are, it doesn’t mean we’re going to be like him,” Harry assured me, touching my hand for support.

“You’re right,” I nodded and tried to clear my head, “What House are your brothers, Ron?”

“Gryffindor," said Ron. Gloom seemed to be settling on him again. "Mom and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not.”

“What do your brothers do now that they are graduated?” Harry asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Charlie's in Romania studying dragons, and Bill's in Africa doing something for Gringotts," said Ron. "Did you hear about Gringotts? It's been all over the Daily Prophet, but I don't suppose you get that with the Muggles, huh? Someone tried to rob a high security vault."

Harry and I stared.

"Really? What happened to them?" Harry asked.

"Nothing, that's why it's such big news. They haven't been caught. My dad says it must've been a powerful Dark wizard to get round Gringotts, but they don't think they took anything, that's what's odd. 'Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case You-Know-Who's behind it."

Harry and I turned to one another. Voldemort kept proving to be more and more fearful the more we heard about him. I supposed I should learn to be more afraid of him if he was truly so awful.

We sat in silence for a few minutes before Ron changed the subject back to flying and the broom sport called Quidditch. I groaned and grabbed my robes to go change.

Before too long, the train was slowing its pace, and Harry and I peered our heads out of the train to behold a giant castle perched on top a rocky hilltop. It was absolutely magnificent, and took my breath away.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Our new home. And we had arrived.


	7. Book One: Chapter Six

**Book One: Chapter Six: Violet Potter and the Sorting Hat**

Hogwarts was even more amazing then I ever thought it would be.

I stared at it dreamily from my seat next to Harry in a boat that glided gently through the waters towards such a castle. It was a Hogwarts tradition, Ron had told us when he first sat in the same boat as us. All first years got the grand view of the full moon drifting lazily atop the spires of the castle, the beautiful lights gleaming from the windows off, the stars sparkling. It was surreal and awe-inspiring.

Harry and I held each other’s hands, so tight they may break, but neither of us wavering.

“It’s…” Harry began.

“Astounding,” I finished and he nodded at me.

We couldn’t help but giggle to each other as we watched the castle drift closer and closer to us as we sailed through the glass-like water.

“Heads down!” Hagrid, who had met them from the train, called as we neared the cliff side of the castle.

We did so, ducking our heads low as we drifted beneath a curtain of ivy, finding ourselves down a long dark tunnel before emerging in a underground harbour beneath the castle.

We clamoured out, Harry and I still clinging to one another as we did so, and followed Hagrid through the winding halls of Hogwarts, only stopping when a severe looking woman with emerald green robes and a pointy hat greeted them.

“This ‘ere is the first years, Professor McGonagall,” Hagrid said.

Professor McGonagall nodded, “Thank you, Hagrid. I will take it from here.”

Hagrid went off on his own, first waving to Harry and I before he did so. We were then to follow after Professor McGonagall who lead us to two grand wooden doors with hundreds of voices whispering behind it.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” said the Professor as we stopped before the door, The start of term banquet will begin shortly, but before you can take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses.”

She proceeded to explain the different houses; Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin, and that once we were sorted into that specific house, in that house we would stay for all classes, dorm arrangements, and free time. There was also a point system, where you could earn or lose points for your house depending on your actions. I just hoped I wasn’t losing any.

Professor McGonagall then went off, leaving us to our own devices until she returned. Though her eyes told us we better not pull any funny business or else.

We didn’t have time to do much of anything though, as suddenly white incorporeal people started sliding out from the walls. I’m not proud of it, but I definitely yelped and grabbed onto Harry, both of us jumping a solid two feet in the air. Others around us shrieked at the sight, thinking they were about to be attacked or worse!

But no harm came to us. Instead the ghosts made delightful conversation, asking us how we felt about the sorting and wishing them luck. A fat Friar told them he was rooting for them to join Hufflepuff as that was his house. Another told them to look out for Peeves, a troublemaking poltergeist that loved to bully students.

“Move along now,” Professor McGonagall said in a sharp voice as she rejoined them, “The Sorting Ceremony is about to begin.”

The ghosts flew off in every which way, but we were made to form into an organized line.

“Now, follow me,” Professor McGonagall ushered and began walking forward.

We were lead into the grand hall, and grand it was. Ceilings so high you couldn’t see the tops, a night sky in place of a roof with stars that looked real and candles floating in the air. I could hear the familiar voice of Hermione behind us telling some girl it was bewitched by a spell.

And then there was the people. Four long sets of tables that stretched down the entire corridor, and each filled to the brim with students. Watching and waiting for them. Some looked curious, others looked excited, some looked judgemental.

I could tell I wasn’t the only one feeling the pressure, because one kid nearby whispered, “I think I’m going to throw up.”

Harry, me and the rest of the first years all pooled in the front of the Great Hall, just before the table that hosted the staff. In front of us was Professor McGonagall and a four-legged stool with a wrinkly old witch hat sitting on it.

Silence was called over the whole room.

What do we have to do with it? Harry whispered in my mind.

Do you think its some kind of test? I asked back.

Test!? But I don’t know any magic, Harry’s voice in my mind seemed frantic.

I squeezed his hand, Don’t worry, Ron said we would be fine, remember?

But I still couldn’t help the queasy feeling in my stomach at whatever was about to happen. Except, I could have never guessed that the hat would sing.

We watched as the hat suddenly came to life, twitching and moving of its own volition. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the lyrics came out in the creaky voice of a man;

 _“Oh, you may not think I’m pretty,_  
But don’t judge on what you see,  
I’ll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I’m the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.  
There’s nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can’t see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be.  
You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve and chivalry  
Set Gryffindors apart;  
You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
And unafraid of toil;  
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
If you’ve a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;  
Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You’ll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folk use any means  
To achieve their ends.  
So put me on! Don’t be afraid!  
And don’t get in a flap!  
You’re in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I’m a Thinking Cap!”

The hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.

“So we’ve just got to try on the hat!” Ron whispered to them in relief, “I’m going to kill Fred, he was going on about us having to wrestle a troll!”

Harry and I chuckled weakly.

All we have to do is try on the hat… I whispered through our minds, trying to convince both himself and myself to not feel so ill.

It’s better then having to do a spell, Harry whispered back, But I wish it wasn’t in front of the whole school.

I turned and nodded to Harry.

Ron looked at us like we were insane, “Why do you look like you just had a conversation?”

We didn’t reply though because Professor McGonagall was giving role call.

“Abbot, Hannah!”

The pink-faced blonde girl stumbled out of the crowd and came forward, shaking like a leaf. It was obvious how nervous she was, and considering she was the first of us all, I would have been just as nervous in her position.

She sat on the stool, Professor McGonagall hovering the hat over her head in wait. When Hannah was in place, the hat was lowered onto her head and-

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

The table under yellow banners all erupted in joy, clapping and hollering for their new house member.

“Bones, Susan!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!” Shouted the hat yet again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

“Boot, Terry!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

The house under the blue banner all rejoiced at their first new house mate.

“Brocklehurst, Mandy” went to Ravenclaw too, but “Brown, Lavender” became the new first Gryffindor, and the table on the far left under the red and gold banners exploded with cheers.

“Bulstrode, Millicent” went to Slytherin. “Finch-Fletchley, Justin” to Hufflepuff. “Finnigan, Seamus”, a boy close to Harry and I, ended up sitting for a whole minute before he was declared a Gryffindor.

“Granger, Hermione!”

The shaggy haired girl I had known from the bookstore and the train walked by, marching straight up to the chair and sitting down. The girl sat there for a long while, nearly four minutes went by of complete silence before,

“RAVENCLAW!”

Hermione grinned, and the house under the blue banner cheered and clapped. She practically skipped off to join them.

“Thank god,” Ron groaned in relief as he leaned in toward Harry and I.

I could practically feel the nerves and tumbling thoughts springing off of Harry, so I squeezed his hand tighter, not much else to do in the moment.

Neville Longbottom tripped on his way to the stool, and laughter piped up from a few tables. He sat there for nearly three minutes before the hat shouted, “HUFFLEPUFF!”. Much to his obvious surprise, his face turning red as he was cheered for.

Draco Malfoy was called a while after, and the hat had barely touched his head before yelling, “SLYTHERIN!”

There was cheers from green and silver, and Draco practically swaggered over to the table with a pleased smirk on his face. Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson soon followed to Slytherin.

Harry and I watched, to our surprise, a set of twin “Patil”girls were sorted… Into separate houses. Parvarti into Gryffindor and Padma into Ravenclaw. And for the first moment, the thought that Harry and I could be separated crossed my mind. A cold sweat broke out on the back of my neck.

It was Harry’s turn to squeeze my hand, but not for long because-

“Potter, Harry!”

Whispers began to echo through the room, and Harry gulped. He let go of my hand, gave me a nervous sort of nod, and went off to the stool.

“Potter, did she say?”

“The Harry Potter?”

I felt like my body was made of lead. Like a thousand tons of weight had been dropped upon my shoulders as the hat was settled over Harry’s eyes. It felt like eons before the Sorting Hat gave a sort of smile and called, “GRYFFINDOR!”

The Gryffindor table went absolutely insane with cheers, as if the whole house had won the lottery. Some reached for Harry as he wobbled over to the table, some looked at the other houses and yelled, “Harry Potter is ours!” It took more then a few minutes for Professor McGonagall to settle them again.

And then it was my turn.

“Potter, Violet!”

I nearly stumbled my way out of the crowd, and made my way to the stool. My sweaty palms and fingers grasped at the sides of the stool. The room was eerily quiet and the last thing I saw before the hat consumed my vision was of Harry’s furrowed expression.

A voice whispered through my mind, and it wasn’t the one I was used to. No, this wasn’t Harry, but the hat itself.

“Ohoh, just as difficult as your brother, eh? There is a fire in you, passion for knowledge, and bravery beyond your years. The intellect of a Ravenclaw, the courage of a Gryffindor, the loyalty of a Hufflepuff… Yes, very interesting. All of these qualities together would prove for quite a grand leader. Yes, a leader indeed. I sense revolution in your blood and bones. Of course, I know where you should be.”

I gulped, and it felt like lava burning my throat.

“SLYTHERIN!”

The burning inside me suddenly turned to ice.

What!? No! Why!? I thought, and before I could have my answers, the hat was pulled from my head and I was brought back to the land of the living.

The whole hall was quiet before me. Staring.

Harry’s eyes were wide with panic and he looked like he was about to spring from his seat and throttle the hat. I shook my head just slightly, my own eyes wide in shock. My mind was empty, but I knew nothing Harry could do would help.

The hall was suddenly flooded with screams and cries of joy and excitement, and I looked over to see the Slytherin table jumping and screaming in the utmost glee. Draco stood with them, clapping and smirking like a devil.

I looked back to see Ron’s face, horrified and was that a touch of disgust? Hermione at the Ravenclaw table had covered her mouth in shock.

“Go on then,” Professor McGonagall said to me quietly, and I could even see the hint of confusion in her eyes.

I walked numbly to the table, sitting next to Theodore Nott, who looked at me with a wide grin. I just nodded weakly to him. The rest of the Slytherins were chanting, particularly to the Gryffindor table, that they had me, the other Potter.

It took even longer for Professor McGonagall to settle the students, but the silence that followed after just felt uncomfortable.

I glanced a look up to the main table, examining the staff members. Some were still staring at me, and I felt my face heat up with embarrassment. One man with long black hair in black flowing robes stared at me intensely, and the man beside him, who I recognized as Professor Quirrell was whispering something to him. I desperately wanted to know what. Was he making fun of me? Saying he wasn’t surprised I had ended up in the house with the worst reputation?

Peering past him, my eyes landed on the man in the middle, at the grandest chair of all. Dumbledore. I recognized him from the chocolate frog collectors card Harry had gotten. He was the head of all Hogwarts. It felt like he was staring into my soul, and I couldn’t help but shake a little under his gaze. Dumbledore just smiled, and gave me a wink. What it was supposed to mean, I wasn’t sure.

The rest of the sorting ceremony, I sat staring at the table, not daring to look up and see Harry’s face across the room.

Dean Thomas was sorted into Gryffindor, Lisa Turpin into Ravenclaw. Even Ron was sorted into Gryffindor, and I didn’t look up to see, but I just knew the redhead would be grinning ear to ear. The final student, Blaise Zabini was made Slytherin, and came to sit at the table next to me

There was a final round of applause before Dumbledore himself stood and came to the front of the room.

“Welcome," he bellowed across the hall. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! First and foremost, Caretaker Argus Filtch has asked to remind all that the third floor corridor is strictly off limits to those who do not wish to die a most painful death. Now! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you, and let the feast begin!”

He nodded and took his seat. The whole Great Hall began to clap and cheer, and for a moment I found myself giggling at the ridiculousness. I looked up to see Dumbledore, peering back at me with a smile.

Odd old man. Brilliant, but odd.

When I looked back down to the table, my eyes widened to see that a decadent feast of any food I could imagine had suddenly filled the table. I wasn’t the only one who was in shock; the other first years were all gaping in surprise before lunging forward and grabbing handfuls of chicken drumsticks, cobs of corn, an array of fruits speared on sticks.

I craned my head over to look across the room where Harry was. Ron was beside him, shoving a Yorkshire pudding into his plate with a helping of mashed potatoes and gravy. The other Gryffindors around him seemed to be asking him all sorts of questions and laughing and grinning at what he said.

Maybe this was a good thing? Without me around he would have to learn to make friends. Yes maybe this was a good opportunity for him. For both of us?

His green eyes caught mine from across the Great Hall, almost like he had felt me staring. We stared at each other for a moment fore I tried to give him my best smile.

I’m alright! I tried to call to his mind, not sure if it would connect from such a distance. We had never tried so far away from each other.

He just gave me a weak smile back.

Maybe this was a good opportunity. But it definitely didn’t feel like it at that moment.

I was jolted from my sullen thoughts when a hand clamped down on my shoulder. I looked back to see a girl, a few years older then myself, with a dirty blonde-brown pixie cut, pale skin and dark eyeliner rimming her hazel eyes. She had a big smile on her face as she wedged herself between myself and Blaise Zabini.

“Stop pouting, would you, Miss Potter. You’re a Slytherin now, keep your head held high.” She said.

“And who are you?” I asked back. All the other first years were watching us with mild intrigue.

“Me? Right. Gemma Farley,” she said and held out her hand. I took it hesitantly. Gemma continued, “I’m one of Slytherin’s prefects in charge of you first years.”

I had heard about prefects from Ron; his brother Percy being one and all. They were the ones that tried to keep us all out of trouble.

“It’s nice to meet you,” I said, though I wasn’t really sure if that was true.

“I just came to let everyone know that if youre ever homesick, I’m the one to come to!” She grinned at me, and some of the tightness in my chest lessened at the surprising kindness of the woman.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be homesick,” I mumbled.

“Oh right, didn’t you grow up with Muggles?” Blaise Zabini snorted, looking slightly disgusted.

I nodded in agreement.

“How was it? Living without magic must have been…” Gemma started, but winced at the fact that she may have been being insensitive.

“It was awful,” I said without hesitation. Because it was. The Dursley’s had not been the most nurturing family to grow up with.

“That’s not surprising,” Draco drawled as he shoved a speared strawberry in his mouth, “Father says all Muggles are absolutely dreadful.”

I felt my mouth sour at the words. That wasn’t quite fair, now was it? Sure I had grown up in a horrendous household of abusive non-magic users, and sure most of the other ‘Muggles’ I had ever interacted with had been cruel, but that didn’t mean all of them were the same. Nothing was ever as black and white as that.

“Your father is wrong,” I said simply.

There was a few gasps, and a couple ‘ooooh’s from the others at the table who were engrossed in the drama of it all.

“What did you say?” Draco asked again, the smirk wiped from his face.

I shrugged, “Just that your father is wrong. Not all Muggles are terrible, in fact, I’m sure some are far more powerful then you.”

Draco looked like he was about to spit fire at me, but before he could, the man in dark robes who had been talking to Professor Quirrell glided up to the table. Up close he looked even more severe; sharp features, permanently narrowed eyes, lips pulled into a frown.

Gemma practically froze at the mans cold gaze, but said, “Everyone, this is Professor Snape, he’s the head of the Slytherin house. Say hello.”

There was a resounding chorus of ‘hello’s and ‘hi’s front he first years. Professor Snape didn’t seem impressed in the least.

“The feast will be over shortly. I suggest using your mouths for more then idle chatter if you wish not to go hungry,” He drawled slowly, “Miss Farley, return to the other prefects and prepare to lead the first years to the dungeons.”

Gemma’s eyes widened like tea saucers, and she quickly jumped up from her seat as soon as his order was issued.

“Of course Professor,” she said. And then she was gone.

Snape paused for a moment, sweeping his eyes across the lot of us before stopping on me. His brows narrowed further, as if that was even possible. It felt like the glare he gave me lasted forever before he curtly turned and walked back to the teachers table with a sweep of his robes.

“Looks like youre on his bad side already,” Snickered Pansy, a girl with a short black bob.

Theodore Nott leaned in, “What did you do?”

“I honestly don’t know,” I said, at a loss. Was everyone going to be so odd here?

“She probably didn’t have to do anything. Professor Snape just has better taste,” Draco sneered, Crabbe and Goyle laughing beside him. Draco looked proud of himself.

I just rolled my eyes and looked at the girl across from me, Tracy Davis, and asked, “Did he say the dungeons?”

She nodded meekly, “Its where our dormitory is.”

Great, not only was I going to be away from Harry for the whole year, I was going to be sealed off in the dungeons of all places!

“I’ve heard it’s not so bad,” she said quietly, seeing my sorrow.

Dinner passed quickly after that, and I had managed to eat enough to sustain myself. Despite my sour mood though, I had to admit that the food I did eat was thousands of times better then anything the Dursley’s could even think of serving. If I hadn’t been so uncomfortable, I swear I would have consumed the whole table.

Gemma Farley lead us through the halls, calling “Slytherin’s this way!”

I tried to find Harry one last time to say goodbye, but he was easily lost within the crowd of students swarming the halls and I was far too short to see over anyone’s head.

Gemma, along with another Slytherin Prefect named Aster Carrow, who didn’t much like to smile at all, lead us down through torch-lit corridors, past paintings that moved and spoke on their own, past a ghost covered all in blood. Finally, we turned down a dead end hallway and stopped in front of a blank stone wall.

“What are we doing here?” I heard some boy whispering to another.

“Here we are!” Gemma announced.

“Are you mental, there’s nothing there!” A thick girl named Millicent yelled back.

Aster Carrow’s face remained a blank slate as he spoke, “This is the entrance to our common room. Remember it well, for if you get lost, we will not be here to help.”

“We use a password to enter, it changes each month and will be written in the common room. Remember the password, or be locked out,” Gemma said. She then turned to the bare wall and said, “Lingua colubris.”

“Whoa,” I whispered as I watched the wall before us began to shake, dust flying from the cracks, and like in Diagon Alley, the bricks began to peel apart for us, revealing an entrance to a further chamber.

“Come on now!” Gemma said as she waltzed in.

The inside of the Slytherin Common Room was nothing like I expected it to be.

Where I had imagined squat quarters with dusty cobwebs and torture devices, stood instead a grand room with high ceilings, stone columns, sleek leather couches by a green crackling fireplace and a large serpent masterpiece on the mantle. The room was swathed in warm green flame light and the shadows on the walls actually danced and told stories. The most amazing was the large windows that looked out into a vast expanse of blue with fish and other creatures swimming by.

Gemma caught my starry gaze and laughed, “Not so bad for a dungeon, is it?” I shook my head. She continued, “Our dorm lies under the Great Lake, and sometimes we can see all kinds of creatures swim past. I swear I once saw a mermaid.”

“A mermaid?” I breathed in disbelief.

Gemma nodded, “yep! And I’m sure you’ll see even more amazing things while you’re here.”

Her face grew softer and she put a hand on my shoulder, “Look, I know it must be hard being away from your brother. And I can tell you would rather be with him but… Slytherin can do great things for you. Sure there is a lot of competition and stubbornness, but we keep ourselves striving for more. You’ll see. You’ll learn to like it here.”

I wasn’t so sure, but I appreciated the sentiment anyways.

After listening to a few house rules and general ‘Welcome to Hogwarts!’ Speeches, we were lead off into our dormitory bedrooms. It was a beautiful long room with five beds inside of it. We would be sharing these rooms with others in our year for the rest of our stay at Hogwarts; I was paired with Pansy Parkinson, Tracey Davis, Daphne Greengrass and Millicent Bullstrode.

Pansy quickly called dibs on one of the exquisite four poster beds drawn with lush green curtains and silky looking green covers. Millicent dove onto the one next to her and Daphne on the other side. Tracy plopped onto the one next to Daphne, leaving me one right near a large underwater window.

All of our stuff had been delivered while we had eaten, and all of us were quick to trade our school robes for pyjamas.

I had just curled up in the surprisingly warm silk blankets, off in space wondering what Harry was doing right now, when a pillow got lodged at my face.

I shot up into a sitting position, ready to lob it back at whoever threw it, when I realized all four girls were staring at me with expectant eyes.

“So…?” Pansy started, looking up from her bottle of nail polish that she was using to paint her finger nails black.

“So, What?” I asked, confused.

Millicent, the one I realized threw the pillow, was on her own bed staring me down. Daphne and Tracy were both clinging to pillows on Tracy’s bed, watching me with interest.

“Are you daft? You know what we want!” Millicent croned.

I really didn’t. When my face didn’t show any sign of recognition, the black-bob haired girl named Pansy spoke up indignantly,

“Honestly!” She huffed and rolled her eyes, “Tell us about him!”

I felt increasingly stupid the more the conversation went on. They all seemed to be of the same mind, but I had no idea who ‘him’ was at all. Harry maybe?

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.

“Come on, don’t hold out on us. We’ve only heard stories of the Dark Lord, but you’ve actually met him!” Daphne said.

“Oh,” I said as realization dawned on me, “Voldemort.”

There was some gasps around the room at the mention of that name. Tracy looked absolutely terrified while Pansy looked far too morbidly interested.

“Well, go on,” Pansy insisted.

“I don’t know much about him at all,” I said, “You all probably know more then me. I was just a baby when it all happened and… he killed Harry and my parents,”

Pansy looked instantly disappointed, “There has to be more then that.”

“You don’t remember what he looks like?” Millicent huffed.

“I was just a baby,” I said in my defence. I didn’t quite understand how they expected me to remember anything from when I was that young.

“Well aren’t you boring,” Pansy huffed and capped her nail polish bottle, “here I thought ‘the girl who lived’ would be more then some boney looking thing with braids. I guess we were all wrong, huh?”

I would have snapped back at her, but she wasn’t exactly wrong. I wasn’t special at all. I was just me; tiny, weak, oblivious girl, despite what everyone thought.

I just sighed and lay back down, turning my back to them and pulling the covers up to my chin. They didn’t much bother me after that. Pansy chattered about her family and the amazing vacations they had all been on, how her bloodline was fabulously pure and wealthy, how absolutely dreamy Draco was and all other kinds of things that made me want to gag more and more. Eventually though, all the girls climbed into bed and drifted off.

All except me.

I laid there, staring out at the calm, dark waters and the luminescent fish that swam past every so often. I just couldn’t sleep.

This wasn’t my first time sleeping without Harry by my side, but it was the first time he had felt so far away from me. Usually he was just a short walk away, up the stairs to the spare bedroom, or just a few classrooms away at our primary school during classes. I didn’t even have a clue where in the castle he currently was. The thought did well to keep me awake.

Harry? I called out, hoping to reach him through our minds. No answer.

Harry? Are you there? I tried again, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find a connection.

What was he doing right now, I wondered. Was he sleeping peacefully with all his new friends, or was he up wondering the same about me? I knew it was selfish, but I almost hoped that Harry was as worried for me as I was for him.

After sleep eluded me for another hour, I slid from the soft silken sheets of my bed, grabbed the white wand from its case and slowly crept out of the dorm room. I found the common room to be almost empty, with one or two students fast asleep on the couches.

At the time, I didn’t realize how stupid I was being as I slowly slunk over to the wall that would reveal the entrance to the Slytherin common room. The only thought going through my head was that I needed to see Harry. All of the speeches about house points and rules and punishments for breaking them went out my ears as I whispered, “Lingua colubris,” to the wall.

It slid open with a soft sound of bricks dragging across the floor, and I looked back to make sure no one had woken to the noise. All clear.

The hallways were quiet and dark, and I had a hard time finding my way back to the Great Hall through the sleepy corridors. I was slightly impressed with myself at my memorization though, and in no time I was back where I had been sorted into Slytherin mere hours ago.

Now I just needed to find the Gryffindor Common Room. I remembered overhearing some other students talking about Gryffindor Tower, and by that logic I knew I needed to go up. Of course I realized I didn’t know the password to their rooms, but if I could just get close enough, I thought I might be able to reach Harry.

So off I went, creeping through the empty hallways and to the grand staircases. Up and up I went, almost yelping in surprise when the stairs moved on their own, shifting to other paths.

I swore I would have made it if it wasn’t for one problem…

I had just made it through a corridor on the eighth floor, searching around for some entrance to the Gryffindor common room, when I turned a corner and smacked into something soft. I instantly recoiled and held up my wand, though I wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.

“Ah, Miss Potter, a long way from your bed,” said a soft elderly voice, with just a tinge of entertainment. The long hallway came alight all at once, and I winced at the sudden light that came from the tip of his wand. After my eyes adjusted, it was obvious to see who it was, standing there in long flowing purple robes, long white hair and beard, half-moon glasses and twinkling eyes.

“Professor Dumbledore…” I said guiltily. ”I can explain I was…”

I couldn’t come up with a good excuse, so I decided honesty would probably be the best course of action.

“I was trying to find Harry…” I sighed.

Dumbledore just smiled, which took me off guard. Wasn’t he supposed to be mad?

“I suppose that makes sense,” He chuckled, “I just caught him trying to do the same. I returned him safely to his common room.”

My heart lifted in my chest and I smiled despite myself, “You did?”

He nodded, “I did. Quite the troublesome pair you are.”

“I’m sorry Professor. Are we in trouble?” I asked, but couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.

“Being out of your common rooms past curfew is quite an offence, yes…” Dumbledore said, “But, since it is the first night of the new school term, and no act borne out of love should be punished, no. You may take this as a warning.”

My smile widened, “Really? Thank you!”

Dumbledore chuckled at my excitement, “I can tell that this wont be the first trouble you will find yourself in within this castle. I would just suggest to be more clever next time. I hear there is all sorts of secret passage ways in this castle.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Had the Head Master of Hogwarts just given me advice for sneaking out?

“Now, why don’t I take you back to your dormitory?” He suggested, though I knew there was no question to his words.

I still wanted to see Harry, of course, but the knowledge that he had been looking for me was enough. I didn’t feel so lonely any more.

Dumbledore lead me through the corridors, down a few staircases, on our way back to the dungeons, quietly.

After a while though, I spoke up, “Professor Dumbledore… why am I in Slytherin? Am I a bad person?”

“Why would you say that?” He asked me, peering over his half moon glasses as he descended a set of steps.

I fiddled with the wand in my hands, “Well, most of the people I’ve met thus far in Slytherin have all been… less then pleasant.”

Dumbledore chuckled, curiosity shining in his eyes. “I will tell you this instead, young Violet… Just because Gyffindor is known for its bravery, it does not mean that there has never been or will be, a Gryffindor who is afraid . Hufflepuff is known to be meek, but who are we to say there is no Hufflepuff to take action? Slytherin’s may have a certain reputation, but that does not mean they are evil. The world is not always so black and white, whether or not people would like it to be so simple.”

I thought about his words for a minute and I supposed he was right. Just because I was in Slytherin, didn’t mean I had to be like Draco or end up like Lord Voldemort… I could be whatever I wanted to be. I could make friends from any house.

“I guess youre right,” I said with embarrassment. “But what if people don’t want to talk to me because I’m in Slytherin?”

“Change their mind,” He said simply.

I sighed, “I just feel like I don’t fit in there. I’m not like them.”

Draco was plain rude, Pansy was obsessed with gossip, Millicent was scary, Daphne seemed stuck up, Tracy seemed like a push over, Crabbe and Goyle were just mindless cronies… Gemma Farley seemed like the only one I could possibly begin to stand.

Dumbledore smiled at me, “What is that Muggle saying? Oh yes, ‘Don’t judge a book by its cover’. Rather interesting saying, I think. If you stop and really pay attention, you will see that your fellow house members have more in common with you then you think. And if you find you don’t like what’s inside, then help the book write new chapters you can enjoy together.”

The way he worded it was confusing… but I thought I understood the meaning. I just met these people, and maybe from the surface they seemed incompatible and obnoxious, but that was just a shallow judgement of my own. I barely knew them and was already throwing away the possibility of their friendship. I felt bad at the thought. Dumbledore was right, I should hold judgement until I got to know them better, and if they still proved awful, I could always try to help them grow into better people.

Dumbledore lead me over to a large portrait on the wall. “Good evening,” he whispered to the young girl in the picture frame who looked rather sleepy.

“Let’s see now, what was that word again… Oh yes! Widdershins!”

The portrait creaked slightly, and swing off the wall. I watched with large eyes as it opened to a staircase going downwards. Professor Dumbledore began walking through, and not wanting to be left behind, I followed quickly on his trail.

The portrait lead us out, surprisingly, to the dungeons, just a little ways off from the Slytherin Common Room. Dumbledore was right, there was hidden passages. I tried to commit this one to memory.

Dumbledore stopped before the blank wall to the common room, and turned to look at me with a serene gaze.

“Being cunning can mean more then just deceit, but can be intelligence and invention. Ambition can be hard work and passion. Great leaders have been borne of Slytherin, and I suspect you could achieve such greatness yourself. It is just up to you what kind of greatness that is.” He said, and as he did, he reached into the long robes of his and produced a single tome and held it out for me. “You can make of your house what you will… But you, Miss Potter, belong right where you are.”

I took the book gingerly and looked down to see the title; “Marvellous Merlin! A Biography of the Greatest Wizard of All Time!”

“Professor, why would you-“

When I looked up to ask why he would give me such a book, he was already gone.

I looked around, shocked, expecting him to be just down the hall, but everywhere I looked, he was not.

“Awesome…” I whispered and went over the the blank wall again.

I returned quietly back to bed that evening and crawled under the silk sheets to the sound of Millicent snoring like an elephant. I set my wand in its case, tucked the book to be read later under my pillow and curled up in the sheets.

It didn’t take too long before I finally fell asleep.

 


End file.
